Ahn of Deep Space Nine
by Aline Sitoe
Summary: Anne of Green Gables in the 24th century. COMPLETED !
1. Ahn of Deep Space Nine Episodes 1 to 5

**Ahn of Deep Space Nine**  
  
A fan-novel, based on _Anne of Green Gables_ by Lucy Maud Montgomery and _STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE.  
  
DISCLAIMER:_ This was written solely for the sake of fun. No money is being made here, and no copyright infringement is intended. Takes place after "What You Leave Behind," the final episode of _Deep Space Nine._  
  
- - - - -  
  
**EPISODE I  
Commander Kira is Surprised**  
  
Commander Kira Nerys stood, silent and alone, before the windows on the third level of the Promenade. Her location was considered the most ideal on space station Deep Space Nine, for it offered the clearest view of the wormhole. Whenever a ship crossed this mysterious gateway, all of space erupted in a commotion of electric blue lights. Of course, by the time the rays reached her eyes, it flowed clear and bright, for not even the tiniest particle could float past her field of vision without regard for decency and decorum. Perhaps space was conscious that she was looking out, keeping a sharp eye on everything that passed, from starships to space dust, and if she noticed anything odd or out of place, she would never rest until she had figured out the whys and wherefores thereof.  
  
There are plenty of people on Deep Space Nine and out of it who could attend closely to their neighbor's business by dint of neglecting their own. But Commander Kira was one of those capable creatures who could manage her own concerns and those of other folks in the bargain. For three years now, the Bajoran had been the station's head administrator; her work was always done and well done; her reputation was fast approaching that of her esteemed predecessor. Yet with all this, Commander Kira managed to find time to stand for hours at the window, keeping a sharp eye on the vast starry space in front of her.  
  
She was standing again one morning, when she spotted the runabout Nile placidly moving away from the station. On the level below, Chief Engineer I'tanij was fixing a power conduit...alone. Her assistant, Lieutenant Nog, should also have been present. Commander Kira knew this because the Bolian had requested additional help during the staff meeting the night before. The Ferengi had quickly volunteered, for he was young and eager to prove himself reliable. Yet here was   
  
I'tanij, in the middle of a busy morning, working alone. And when Kira checked the departure lists, she learned that the shuttle was piloted by none other than Lieutenant Nog himself.  
  
Now, where was Nog headed and why?  
  
Had it been any other person on Deep Space Nine, Commander Kira, deftly putting the details together, might have given a pretty good guess as to both questions. But Nog was one of the most dutiful officers alive; he so rarely left the station that it must have been something pressing and unusual which had taken him. Kira, ponder as she might, could make nothing of it and her morning ritual was spoiled.  
  
"I'll just drop by his uncle Quark's bar. Maybe he knows something," she finally concluded. "If Nog needed more parts or tools, he wouldn't take a shuttle to go for more; and if something was wrong with his father on Ferenginar, he wouldn't have left alone. As much as Quark can't stand Rom, they're still family. Yet something must have happened since last night to start him off. I'm puzzled, and I won't have peace of mind until I get some answers."  
  
Accordingly, Kira set out; she had not far to go; Quark's bar was just one level below. It would be another two hours before it opened. The doors were closed, and the lights were on at half power. Peeking inside, Kira could see Quark, surrounded by several scantily clad Dabo girls. "Let me guess," she thought with a smirk. "He's discussing the new dental insurance plan." With this, Kira rang the door chime.  
  
"Good morning Commander," Quark said briskly as the doors swung back. As Kira marched in, he made dismissive gestures towards the Dabo girls. "You're a bit early. I was just discussing the new employee dental plan."  
  
"So, what'll it be today? Quark continued, motioning Kira towards the bar. "The usual raktegeno, or maybe something with a little more substance. I just added four new flavors of Andorian breakfast cubes to the replicator menu..."  
  
Kira paused for a moment, then came forward, taking a seat. "Thank you." she said, smiling faintly. "I've already eaten. I just dropped by to see how things were going and to...speak with your nephew about the new maintenance schedule. He's usually in here about this time, isn't he?" Kira cringed on the inside. She hated such false displays of pleasantries, but a decade of experience taught her that directness was not the best way to get answers from a Ferengi.

Something that for lack of any other name might be called a reluctant acquaintance existed and always had existed between Commander Kira and Quark, in spite of - or perhaps because of - their personalities. Though Kira could be obstinate, she was at heart a woman of kind disposition and sincere conscience. Though Quark was capable of similar acts, in essence he was driven by a conniving nature.  
  
"Oh!" Quark smiled knowingly. He had been expecting Kira's visit; he knew full well that his nephew's leaving so unexpectedly would be too much for her curiosity.  
  
"Lieutenant Nog's not on the station right now," he said matter-of-factly. "He's gone to Bajor to pick up my son. I'm getting an orphan from the asylum at Rivan."  
  
If Quark had said that he had been elected Kai, Kira could not have been more astonished. She was actually stricken dumb for five seconds. Quark knew better than to make fun of her, but Kira immediately suspected it.  
  
Are you serious?" she demanded when voice returned to her.  
  
"Yes, of course," said Quark, as if getting children from orphan asylums on Bajor were part of the usual business at any well-regulated bar instead of being an unheard-of innovation.   
  
Kira felt as if she had received a severe plasma shock. She thought in exclamation points. "A son! Quark of all people adopting a child! The fire caves must be freezing over! I suppose nothing will surprise me after this! Nothing!"  
  
"When did this come about?" she asked, even more demandingly. After all, Quark made a move without here advice being asked, and must perforce be disapproved.  
  
"Well, I've been thinking about it for some time, ever since Captain Sisko's passing. I don't know about you, but this really made me realize how unpredictable life is. Despite all he did for this station and for the entire Alpha quadrant, fate still snatched him from us, just like that. Still, he has Jake and Azran, two fine sons to carry on his legacy. But what about me? Marriage isn't likely in my future, and you've seen the rest of my family. Ever since my brother was made Nagus, he's been trying to change the laws of the universe. Nog's no better. He's gone and sold his soul to Starfleet. As for my cousin Gaila, well, he's one inch away from the looney bin. I need someone I can trust, Commander, someone I can mold in my own image. I mean, someone has to carry on my legacy."  
  
Quark stepped back, spreading his arms out wide. "I need to know that my empire will survive."  
  
"And you don't mind if your 'heir' is Bajoran?"  
  
"Why should I? Quark said with a shrug. "If it weren't for you people, I wouldn't be where I am today. Besides, there are plenty of children on Bajor desperate for a good home. I'm getting an older boy, so I can start teaching him the ropes right away. You never know where you'll be tomorrow. I've completed all the paperwork and the interviews, and the Vedeks approved my application yesterday. I would've gone to get him myself, but the last time I left these morons in charge, they let Morn come in and drink my entire stock of Norsican ale. Hasn't paid me back yet."  
  
"Does anyone else know about this?" Kira asked.  
  
"It was going to be a surprise...you're the first to know."  
  
Commander Kira prided herself on always speaking her mind; she proceeded to speak it now, having adjusted her mental attitude to this amazing piece of news.  
  
"If you don't mind my saying, Quark, don't you think you're taking a big risk? You don't know what you're getting yourself into. You're bringing a CHILD onto this station and into your home. You don't know a single thing about him or what his disposition is like nor what sort of life he's had nor how he's likely to turn out. And then there's the boy! The children in those asylums have lived through horrible conditions - the Occupation, the Dominion war. You can't just bring him here, in the middle of deep space, and set him to work on your Dabo wheels! If you had asked my advice in this matter...which you didn't do, I'd have said that for Prophets' sake, not to think of such a thing."  
  
These comments seemed neither to offend nor to alarm Quark. "I don't deny there's something in what you say, Commander. I'll be the first to admit that this is a pretty big gamble. But I feel lucky about this, and it's so seldom that I feel lucky about anything these days that I just have to follow it through. As for the risk, there's risks in everything one does in this universe. There's risks in people having children of their own. Besides, he's Bajoran - he can't be much different from yourself."  
  
"Well, I do hope things work out for the best," said Kira in a tone that plainly indicated painful doubt. "Only don't say I didn't warn you if they don't. Just remember, children don't come with money-back guarantees."  
  
Kira would have liked to stay until Nog came home with the orphan. But reflecting that it would be several hours before his arrival she decided to go to Ops and spread the news. It would certainly cause a sensation second to none. So, she took herself away, somewhat to Quark's relief, for he felt his doubts and fears reviving under the influence of the Commander's pessimism.  
  
"Just when you thought things couldn't get more interesting!" Kira thought as she entered the turbolift. "It's so weird to think of Quark raising a child. But then, one way or another, I suppose it was inevitable. At any rate, may the Prophets help them...and us as well."  
  
So said Commander Kira Nerys as she exited into Ops; but if she could have seen the child who was waiting patiently at the asylum in Rivan Province that very moment her pity would have been deeper and more profound.  
  
- - - - -   
  
**EPISODE II  
Lieutenant Nog is Surprised**  
  
The runabout Nile sailed effortlessly across the bright blue skies of the Rivan Province. Below lay fertile land, with lush green grass running between snug farms, with now and again a bit of forest or a river where a rainbow of berries hung out their filmy bloom. The air was sweet with the breath of flowers, though the Lieutenant could not smell it from inside the vessel.  
  
As the shuttle approached the asylum grounds, Nog saw no sign of anyone outside. At first, he thought they were all at afternoon prayer. He landed the runabout in the first available clearing, and headed towards the grounds on foot. As he walked up a long dirt pathway, he barely caught sight of a Cardassian girl sitting in a chair at the far end of the entrance.  
  
Nog, barely noticing the girl, walked past her as quickly as possible without a look. Had he looked he could hardly have failed to notice the tense rigidity and expectation of her attitude and expression. She was sitting there waiting for something or somebody and, since sitting and waiting was the only thing to do just then, she sat and waited with all her might and main. As Nog crossed the entrance, he was greeted by a young woman wearing a bright orange hooded robe.  
  
"Ah, you must be Lieutenant Nog from Deep Space Nine, she said, heartily shaking the officer's hand. "I'm very pleased to meet you. My name is Vedek Avrel. I'll be handling the final details of the adoption today."  
  
"Strange," Nog thought. "Uncle Quark never mentioned a Vedek Avrel. He told me that Vedek Moriel, the head administrator, was in charge of the whole matter."  
  
"I'm pleased to meet you too," Nog replied. "But I was told by my Uncle to meet with Vedek Moriel."  
  
"I apologize, but Vedek Moriel was called away this morning on an emergency. But don't worry, I have been fully informed of your case."  
  
Vedek Avrel took a data padd from beneath her robe. She paused for a moment, reading, then looked up with a broad smile. "Since all the paperwork has been completed, all that's really left is to turn the child over to you. It's a shame your uncle couldn't come himself, but I suppose they will have plenty of time to get acquainted on the station. So, if you have no objections, I can bring the child out now."  
  
Nog nodded his approval, and the Vedek exited the room through the same door which Nog had entered. A moment later, she returned...and behind her was the Cardassian girl from outside.  
  
"Her name is Kor Morel," she said, letting her go in front of Nog. The girl quickly scurried behind the Vedek's robes. "I had asked her to wait inside, but she informed me that she preferred to stay outside. 'There is more scope for imagination,' she said. Child's really something, I must say."

"Oh...I wasn't expecting HER," said Nog blankly. "SHE isn't who I came for. You must have made a mistake."  
  
"A mistake?" Avrel paused, referring again to her data padd. "There's no mistake," she said.  
  
"According to our records, your uncle requested a child of sound mind and good health between the age of ten and fourteen. As you can see, the child fits all said criteria."  
  
"That's not what I meant," said Nog helplessly, wishing that his Uncle was at hand to cope with the situation. "I meant that he said he wanted a...he was set on getting a..."  
  
The thought was so clear in his mind. "He wanted a BAJORAN BOY, for goodness sakes. Perhaps my Uncle didn't specifically state that on the application, but I know that's what he meant!"  
  
The Vedek stared at Nog, lost. She really DIDN'T know. The Ferengi could feel his pulse quicken, and his ears began to numb.  
  
"If you believe there was a mistake, sir..." the Vedek insisted.  
  
Nog looked at the girl. Kor Morel looked about ten years of age, with bright blue eyes and a set of well-defined ridges. She was dressed in a very short, very tight, very ugly dark blue jumper which gave her pale gray skin an unhealthy cast. Her hair was long and a bright reddish brown - the latter he had never seen before in the species. The girl stood curiously behind Avrel the whole time, clutching a brown satchel close to her chest.  
  
In these brief seconds, an extraordinary observer may have seen how this child's eyes were full of spirit and vivacity; that her mouth was sweet-lipped and expressive; and that her face was pleasant and full. In short, our discerning observer might have concluded that no common-place soul inhabited the body of this stray woman-child of whom Nog was so wary.  
  
After a brief pause, Nog extended his hand to the scrawny little child. He couldn't tell her, or Vedek Avrel that there had been a mistake...he would take her home and let Quark do that. After a rather awkward introduction, Nog was free to take his new cousin home. The walk from the asylum was passed in silence, with the girl walking several paces behind. Halfway down the road, Nog stopped and turned around.  
  
"It's going to be a long walk to the runabout, so why don't you give me your bag?"  
  
"Oh, I can carry it, Cousin," Kor Morel responded cheerfully. "It isn't heavy. I've got all my worldly goods in it, but it isn't heavy. And if it isn't carried in just a certain way the strap cuts into your hand, so I'd better keep it because I know the exact knack of it. It's an extremely old bag. Oh, I'm so very glad you've come, even through I'm not who you expected. Have we a long trip to make? Vedek Moriel said Deep Space Nine is three hours from Bajor. I'm glad because I want to get a good look along the way. I've never been in space before, and the only time I see the stars are at night. Oh, it seems so wonderful that I'm going to live with your uncle on a space station. I've lived in many places before, but I've never really had a family. And of all those places, the asylum was the worst. I've only been in it for a year, but that was enough. I don't suppose you ever were an orphan in an asylum, so you can't possibly understand what it is like. It's worse than anything you could imagine. I know it's a sin for me to talk like that, and I don't mean to be wicked. It's so easy to be wicked without knowing it, isn't it? They were very good, you know, the Vedeks. But there is so little scope for the imagination in an asylum...only just in the other orphans. It was pretty interesting to imagine things about them...to imagine that perhaps the little Bajoran boy who sat next to me at lunch was really the son of rebels, who had been killed freeing prisoners of war. I used to lie awake at nights and imagine things like that, because I didn't have time in the day. I guess that's why I am so thin - I AM dreadful thin, aren't I? You can feel my bones just sticking out. I do love to imagine I'm nice and plump, so my neck ridges will space out evenly."  
  
With this, Nog's companion stopped talking, partly because she was out of breath and partly because they had reached the runabout. Not another word did she say until they had entered space. Morel, sitting in the pilot seat opposite Nog, gazed wide-eyed at the viewscreen.  
  
"Isn't that beautiful, cousin? What do the stars, all white and shimmering, make you think of?" she asked.  
  
"Well now, I don't know," said Nog.  
  
"Why, a gown, of course...a long black gown sprinkled with white crystals. I've never seen one for real, but I can imagine what it would look like. I don't ever expect to wear such a lovely thing myself. I'm so homely I wouldn't do it justice. But I do hope that some day I shall have a nice dress. That is my highest ideal of mortal bliss. I just love pretty clothes. I've never had a pretty dress in my life, but of course, it's all the more to look forward to, isn't it? And then I can imagine that I'm dressed gorgeously. This morning when I got dressed I felt so ashamed because I was going to meet you wearing this ragged old dress. All the orphans are dressed like this, you know. An Orion merchant donated yards and yards of this blue cloth to the asylum. Some people said it was because he couldn't sell it, but I'd rather believe that it was out of the kindness of his heart, wouldn't you?"  
  
"When I first got my dress, I felt as if I were the most pitiful creature alive. But I just went to work and imagined that I had on the most beautiful blue velvet suit...because when you ARE imagining you might as well imagine something worth while...with my hair all pinned up and latinum bracelets on my wrists and matching shoes. I felt cheered up right away. I may not have a blue velvet suit either, but at least I'll have a decent dress. I just love it already, and I'm so glad I'm going to live on a space station. I've always heard that Deep Space Nine was an interesting place, it being the home of the Emissary and all. I once imagined I was living there, but I never really expected that I would. It's delightful when your imaginations come true, isn't it? But then there's the wormhole. I always believed it had its source in the souls of the Prophets themselves, until I heard the Orion say that it's controlled by little aliens living inside. I once asked Vedek Tola what made the wormhole work she said she didn't know and for Prophet's sake not to ask so many questions. She said I must have asked her over a thousand already. I suppose I had, too, but how does one find out about things if they don't ask questions? And what DOES make the wormhole work?"  
  
"Well, it's kind of a long story," said Nog apprehensively. "Perhaps I'll tell it to you later." As much he liked the girl, he was determined to keep an emotional distance. He knew that the odds were against there being a "later."  
  
"Well, that is one of the things to find out sometime," Morel cheerfully replied. "Isn't it splendid to think of all the things there are to find out about? It just makes me feel glad to be alive...it's such an interesting universe. It wouldn't be half so interesting if we knew all about everything, would it? There'd be no scope for imagination then, would there? But am I talking too much? People are always telling me I do. Would you rather I didn't talk, cousin? If you say so I'll stop. I can STOP when I make up my mind to it, although it's difficult."  
  
Nog, much to his own surprise, was enjoying himself. He had never expected to enjoy the society of a Cardassian. His childhood memories were filled with images of heavy-handed Guls and arrogant Legates. He disliked their condescending voices, and the way they had of sliding past him, with haughty glances, as if he were a social inferior. But Kor Morel was very different, and although he sometimes found it difficult to keep up with her brisk mental processes, he "kind of liked her chatter." So he replied:  
  
"Oh, you can talk as much as you like. I don't mind."  
  
"I'm so very glad. I know you and Mr. Quark and I are going to get along splendidly. It doesn't matter that you both are Ferengi and I'm a Cardassian. Being different just makes life all the more interesting. It's such a relief when people accept you for what you are and not criticize you or try to change you. And people laugh at me because I use big words. But if you have big ideas wouldn't it be PRUDENT to use big words to express them? "  
  
"Well now, that seems reasonable," said Nog.  
  
"Vedek Tola said that my tongue should be tied. It can't be done - the thread just keeps falling off. She also said she was quite glad to see me go off to a space station in the sky. And when she said that, I was gladder than ever. I just love the stars. One night, not too long ago, I looked up and the sky was pure black...except for one tiny star to the east. It looked so alone and so far away that it reminded me of a little lost orphan. I wanted to reach out to that star and say, 'Oh, don't be so sad, you are not alone. I know exactly how you feel!' Do you think if I tried hard enough, I could find that star?"  
  
"Well, anything's possible."  
  
"Fancy. It's always been one of my dreams to live in space. I never expected I would, though. Dreams don't often come true, do they? Wouldn't it be nice if they did? But just now I feel pretty nearly perfectly happy. I can't feel exactly perfectly happy because, well, what color would you call this?"  
  
Morel pulled a strand of her long hair over her thin shoulder and held it up before Nog's eyes. Nog was not used to deciding on the tints of ladies' tresses, but in this case there couldn't be much doubt.  
  
"Well, it's very RED." he decided.  
  
The girl let the strand drop back with a sigh that seemed to come from her very toes and to exhale forth all the sorrows of the ages.  
  
"Now you can see why I can't be perfectly happy. I don't mind being Cardassian, but no Cardassian has hair like mine. Try as I might, I cannot even imagine it away. I do my best. I think to myself, 'Now my hair is a glorious black, black as a raven's wing.' But all the time I KNOW it is this unholy color and it breaks my heart. It will be my lifelong sorrow. I read of a girl once in a book who had a lifelong sorrow but it wasn't her hair. It was her true love, a prince who died tragically. A sorcerer cast an evil spell 'upon his noble head.' You wouldn't happen to know what a 'noble' color is, would you?"  
  
"I'm afraid not," said Nog, who was getting a little dizzy. He felt as he had once felt when he was six years old and another boy had enticed him into drinking a glass of Sorian brandy.  
  
"Well, whatever it was it must have been something nice because he was divinely handsome. Have you ever imagined what it must feel like to be divinely handsome?"  
  
"Well now, no, I haven't," confessed Nog ingenuously.  
  
"I have, often. Which would you rather be if you had the choice - divinely handsome, wonderfully clever or prophetically good?"  
  
"Well now, I...I don't know exactly."  
  
"Neither do I. I can never decide. But it doesn't make much real difference for it isn't likely I'll ever be any of the three. It's certain I'll never be prophetically..."  
  
"Look ahead!" Nog said, interrupting her for the very first time. In the viewscreen, the image of space station Deep Space Nine came closer and closer into sight. Its size seemed to strike the child dumb. She leaned back into the chair, her thin hands clasped before her, blue eyes lifted rapturously to the brightly lit structure before her. Even after the Nile was docked and they were headed out the airlock, Morel still didn't speak. With her heart beating fast, she followed her cousin onto the Promenade.  
  
Nog led Kor Morel past several shops, with their blinking lights and signs in various alien script. Then they boarded a turbolift, which took them to the Habitat Ring. All the while, Bajorans, Federation Officers, and other denizens of the station offered their smiles and curious looks. The Lieutenant responded with a friendly nod and the occasional greeting. Meanwhile, the girl said nothing. She could keep silent, it was evident, as energetically as she could talk.  
  
"I suppose you're pretty tired," Nog ventured to say as they exited the turbolift, accounting for her long stint of dumbness with the only reason he could think of. "But we haven't very far to go now."  
  
Just then, the girl came out of her reverie with a deep sigh and looked at him with the dreamy gaze of a soul that had been wondering afar, star-led.  
  
"Oh, Cousin," she whispered, "that place we came through...what was it?"  
  
"Well now, you must mean the Promenade," said Nog after a few moments' profound reflection. "It's kind of an interesting place."  
  
"Kind of? Oh, that doesn't seem the right word to use. Nor beautiful, either. They don't go far enough. Oh, it was wonderful, simply wonderful. It's the first thing I ever saw that couldn't be improved upon by imagination. It just satisfies me here" - she put one hand across her heart - "it made a queer funny ache and yet it was a pleasant ache. Did you ever have an ache like that?"  
  
"Well now, I can't remember that I ever had."  
  
"I have it all the time, whenever I see anything incredibly beautiful. But they shouldn't call that lovely place the Promenade. There is no meaning in a name like that. They should call it...let me see...the 'Pathway to Heaven.' Isn't that a nice imaginative name? When I don't like the name of a place or a person I always imagine a new one and always think of them so. There was another Cardassian girl at the asylum whose name was Jel Rona, but I always imagined her as Mayzani Palar. Other people may call that place the Promenade, but I shall always call it the Pathway to Heaven. Have we really a short distance before we get home? I'm glad and I'm sorry. I'm sorry because this trip has been so pleasant and I'm always sorry when pleasant things end. Something better may be yet to come, but you can never be sure. And it's so often the case that it isn't better. That has been my experience anyhow. But I'm glad to think of getting home. You see, I've never had a real home as long as I can remember. It gives me that pleasant ache again just to think of coming to a really truly home."  
  
As the made their way down the corridor, Morel heard a high-pitched squeak from behind. She looked back, catching sight of a large, orange colored Terran feline. It sat against the wall, placidly licking its paw.  
  
"Oh, What is THAT?!" she exclaimed, running to see. The cat stopped licking, and curiously sniffed at her feet.  
  
"That's Saturn, the Sisko's pet cat." Nog explained.  
  
"Why is it called Saturn?"  
  
Nog turned around, and came to her side. With a smile, he bent down, stroking its soft warm fur. "He's named for a planet in the Terran system. They're both round, large, and bright orange. But the cat is definitely better-looking."  
  
"Saturn is a very pretty name and a very pretty cat. And do the Siskos any children?"  
  
"Well there's Jake, he's the same age as me. He owns and writes for the Deep Space Times...that's our newspaper here. And there's his little brother Azran. He's just turned three. He likes to paint and play tee-ball in the holosuite."  
  
"I can't wait to meet Jake and little Azran. And I would love to play with Saturn the cat."  
  
Suddenly, the smile that was on Nog's face faded. He motioned for the girl to come. "Maybe later. We'd better keep going. I'm sure that Uncle Quark is very...eager to meet you."  
  
The girl nodded obediently. "Goodbye for now Saturn," she said, patting the cat on the head. The creature looked at her for a moment longer, then resumed its paw licking.  
  
When she returned, he took her hand. "We're pretty near home now. That's his quarters over..."  
  
"Oh, don't tell me," she interrupted breathlessly. "Please let me guess. I'm sure I'll guess right."  
  
From one door to another the girl's blue eyes darted, eager and wistful. Though they were clearly marked with the names of its inhabitants, they were all written in Federation English. The child could only read Bajoran. At last, her eyes lingered on one door at the far end of the corridor.  
  
"That's it, isn't it?" she said, pointing.  
  
Nog smiled. "Well now, you've guessed it! But I suppose one of the Vedeks must have told you."

"No they didn't, really. l hadn't any real idea what it looked like. But just as soon as I saw it I felt it was home. Oh, it seems as if I must be in a dream. Do you know, my arm must be black and blue from the elbow up, for I've pinched myself so many times today. Every little while a horrible feeling would come over me and I'd be so afraid that it was all a dream. Then I'd pinch myself to see if it was real...until suddenly I remembered that even supposing it was only a dream I'd better go on dreaming as long as I could; so I stopped pinching. But it IS real and I AM nearly home."  
  
With a sigh of rapture she relapsed into silence. Nog stirred uneasily. He felt glad that it would be Quark and not he who would have to tell this orphan of the universe that the home she longed for was not to be hers after all. By the time they reached the door, Nog was shrinking from the approaching revelation with an energy he did not understand. It was not of uncle Quark or himself he was thinking of, nor the trouble this mistake was probably going to make for them, but of the child's disappointment. When he thought of that light in her eyes being snuffed, he had a dark terrible feeling, as if he were about to kill something in the center of her heart.  
  
Swallowing hard, Nog leaned forward and rang the door chime.   
  
- - - - -   
  
  
**EPISODE III  
Quark is Surprised**  
  
Quark came briskly forward and opened the door. But when his eyes fell on the odd little figure in the ugly dress, with the long auburn hair and the wide blue eyes, he stopped short in his tracks.  
  
"Who's THIS?" he stammered.  
  
"Uncle, this is the child you asked for," said Nog timidly.  
  
"She is NOT!" exclaimed Quark.  
  
"The Vedeks said she was the one." Nog insisted. "And at any rate, I couldn't just leave her there."  
  
During this dialogue Kor Morel had remained silent, her eyes roving from one to the other, all the animation fading out of her face. Suddenly she seemed to grasp the full meaning of what was being said. Dropping her precious bag she jumped back a step.  
  
"You don't want me!" she cried. "You don't want me because I'm Cardassian! I should've expected it. The Bajorans don't want me either. I should've known it was too good to be true. I should've known no one really wanted me. Take me back to Rivan...take me back now!"  
  
With that, the girl burst into tears. Nog and Quark looked at each other with despair as the child moaned and cried. Neither of them knew what to say or do. Finally, Quark stepped lamely into the breach.  
  
"There, now, there's no need for all that."  
  
"Yes, there IS need!" The child looked up at him, revealing tear-stained cheeks and trembling lips. "YOU would cry, too, if you were an orphan and had come to a place you thought was going to be home and found that they didn't want you simply because you were Cardassian. Oh, this is the most HUMILIATING thing that has ever happened to me!"  
  
Quark paused, and rolled his eyes.  
  
"Hey now...stop that. Don't cry any more. I'm not going to dump you into the street. You'll stay here until everything's been cleared up. What's your name?"  
  
The child hesitated for a moment.  
  
"Kor Morel" reluctantly faltered forth the owner of that name, "but, oh, please do call me Ahn. My given name is Morel, but lately, I've taken to calling myself Ahn. At any rate, it can't matter much to you what you call me since I'm only going to be here a little while, can it?"  
  
"Don't be ridiculous!" said Quark. "Morel's a good name. You shouldn't be ashamed of it."  
  
"Oh, I'm not ashamed of it," the child explained, "only I like Ahn better. Of all the names, I think it is the prettiest. However, you must be careful to pronounce it just right...'AUHN' NOT 'ANN'."  
  
"What difference does it make what name I use?" asked Quark, rolling his eyes again.  
  
"Oh, it makes SUCH a difference. One LOOKS so much nicer. When you hear a name pronounced can't you always see it in your mind, just as if it was printed out? I can, and A-H-N looks so much more beautiful. It reminds me of flowers and cool morning air. M-O-R-E-L, on the other hand, reminds me of cold fish stew. If you'll only call me Ahn, it'll make me feel a lot better."  
  
"Very well, then, AHN, how about explaining why the Vedeks chose you?  
  
"Oh, yes. It began last week, when all us orphans were outside, pulling weeds in the garden. We hadn't been out very long when one of the Vedeks called us to attention. We were told to stand in line, and to look sharp. Then, Vedek Moriel came. He's VERY busy with the business of keeping us alive, so he hardly ever comes to see us. Without a word, Vedek Moriel walked up and down the line, generally looking us all over. Then when he was finished, we were told we could leave. I was on my way out the door when he told me to stay behind. After everyone was gone, he looked me in the eye and asked if I'd like to live in the stars. You don't know how delighted I was. I couldn't sleep all that night for joy."  
  
"Oh," she added reproachfully, turning to Nog, "why didn't you tell the Vedeks that your uncle didn't want me and leave me there? If I hadn't seen the stars and the Pathway to Heaven it wouldn't be so hard."  
  
"What does she mean?" demanded Quark, staring at Nog.  
  
"She - she's just referring to some conversation we had on the way here," said the Lieutenant hastily. "It's been a long trip. Why don't I go and fix us all something to eat?"  
  
With that, Nog eased his way out of the room. After an awkward pause, Quark forced himself to make conversation. Though he wasn't terribly interested in the girl, he felt the least he could do was make her more comfortable.  
  
"So Ahn, did you have many friends at Rivan?"  
  
"I had a few. My best friend was a little girl named Selin Gal. She has freckles and five perfect little ridges on her nose. If I had freckles and ridges on my nose would you keep me?"  
  
Quark refused to answer, and the two remained silent until Nog called them both to the table. While Nog and Quark quickly polished their plates, Ahn picked at her food for over an hour. She barely sipped the Plomeek soup and nibbled at the bread out of the little white dish by her bowl. She did not really make any headway at all.  
  
"You're not eating anything," said Quark, eying her as if it were a serious shortcoming. Ahn sighed.  
  
"I can't. I'm in the depths of despair. Can you eat when you are in the depths of despair?"  
  
"You have to eat, no matter what," responded Quark sternly. "Food costs money, and it's a crime to waste both."  
  
"I don't expect you to understand what it's like. Despair is a very uncomfortable feeling indeed. When you try to eat a lump comes right up in your throat and you can't swallow anything, not even if it were the fruit from a jumja tree. I had one three months ago and it was simply delicious. I've often dreamed since then that I about to eat a bushelful, but I always wake up just before I take the first bite. Please don't be offended because I can't eat. Everything is extremely nice, but still I cannot eat."  
  
"I guess she's just tired," said Nog, who hadn't spoken since the meal started. "Maybe you'd better let her go to bed."  
  
"All right," said Quark, sounding rather indifferent. He rose and gestured for Ahn to follow him, which she did spiritlessly. The hall was fearsomely dim, and the little room in which she presently found herself seemed still darker.  
  
"I suppose you have night clothes?" Quark questioned as he turned on the lights.  
  
Ahn nodded. "Yes, I have two. Vedek Tola made them for me. She makes all our clothes. They're a bit skimpy, though. There is never enough to go around in an asylum, so things are always skimpy...at least in a poor asylum like ours. I hate skimpy night-dresses. But one can dream just as well in them as in lovely trailing ones, with bright colored trim around the neck, that's one consolation."  
  
"Well, change and go to bed. I'll come back in a few minutes to see how you are."  
  
When Quark had gone Ahn looked around her wistfully. The walls, which were a plain metallic gray, had been brightened up significantly with posters of the great financial capitals of the universe. Meanwhile, the floor was carpeted in a shade of deep purple. The furniture was an eclectic mix. In one corner was a bed, dressed up with large pillows and a bold Telarian paisley spread. Next to it was a stand housing what appeared to be a set of toy soldiers. Directly across was a large window, shielded by a thin black screen. Finally, against the opposite wall was a tiny cabinet adorned with incense and a statue of Ferenginar's Divine Treasury. The whole apartment was warm and inviting, but clearly intended for someone else. With a sob, Ahn hastily discarded her garments, put on the skimpy nightgown and sprang into bed where she burrowed face downward into the pillow, pulling the covers over her head. When Quark returned, he found a trail of shabby clothes, leading to a lump in the center of the bed.  
  
Quark deliberately picked up Ahn's clothes, placing them in a mound on a chair. Then, he went over to the bed.  
  
"Good night," he said, a little awkwardly, but not unkindly. Ahn's pale gray face and big eyes appeared over the sheets with a startling suddenness.   
  
"How can you call it a GOOD night when you know it must be the very worst night I've ever had?" she said reproachfully.  
  
Then she dived down into invisibility again.  
  
Quark went slowly into the dining room and proceeded to clear the supper dishes. Nog was sitting at the table, drumming his fingers - a sure sign of perturbation of mind.  
  
"Well, this is a fine mess," Quark said, clanking the dishes loudly as he moved. "Vedek Moriel must have misunderstood me somehow. It shouldn't come as a surprise...the man's pushing 130. I guess you'll have to go back to Rivan tomorrow. I can't keep this girl."  
  
"I HAVE TO GO?!" Nog exclaimed.  
  
"Of course, you're the one who got her."  
  
"YOU'RE the one who wanted a child in the first place," Nog replied, sounding more than a little flustered. "Why do I have to handle all your dirty work?"  
  
"I'd handle it myself if I could," Quark insisted. "But you know I can't leave the bar unattended. What else can I do?"  
  
"She's a very nice person, Uncle. Seems kind of cruel to send her back when she's so set on staying here."  
  
"Nog, you're not suggesting I ought to keep her!" Quark's astonishment could not have been greater if Nog had been given command of the station.  
  
"Well, now, no, I suppose not...not exactly," stammered Nog, uncomfortably driven into a corner for his precise meaning. "I suppose that the Vedeks DID make a mistake."  
  
"Did they ever. Besides, what good would she be to me? I can't leave my business to a fe-male."  
  
"Perhaps YOU might be some good to her," said Nog suddenly and unexpectedly.  
  
"Nog, I can't believe you. You've become attached to this child! I can see as plain as day that you want me to keep her."  
  
"Well Uncle, she's a very interesting little girl," persisted Nog. "You should have heard her talk on the runabout."  
  
"Oh, she can talk fast enough. I saw that immediately. It's not in her favor, though. I don't want a Cardassian and if I did she isn't the kind I'd pick out. There's something I don't understand about her. No... she's got to be sent back to Rivan."  
  
"You could get another child, a Bajoran boy," Nog suggested, "and they'd both be company for you."  
  
"I can't afford TWO children" said Quark hotly. "And I'm not going to keep this one."  
  
"Fine then, it's your decision," said Nog rising. "But I won't have anything more to do with it. If you want to take her back, you do it yourself!"  
  
And with that, Nog stormed out of his uncle's quarters, across the Habitat Ring to his own room and bed. And to bed, after he had put the dishes away, went Quark, frowning most resolutely. And in the bedroom across from his, a heartbroken Cardassian girl cried herself to sleep.   
  
- - - - -   
  
**EPISODE IV  
Morning on the Station**  
  
It was morning when Ahn awoke and sat up in bed. Instead of warm sunshine and pale blue sky, she was greeted by darkness. For a moment she could not remember where she was. First came a delightful thrill, as something very pleasant; then the horrible reality. This was Deep Space Nine, and no one wanted her because she was Cardassian!  
  
But it was morning and, yes, the stars were outside. She darted to the window, and after a moment of tinkering, managed to raise the screen. She pressed her nose to the glass, and watched as the wormhole engulfed a small Vulcan freighter. Ahn gasped, her eyes glistening with delight. Oh, wasn't that beautiful? Wasn't this a lovely place? What if she really was going to stay here! She would imagine she was. There was scope for imagination here.  
  
Ahn's beauty-loving eyes lingered on the wormhole, greedily taking in each pulse of light. She had looked on so many unlovely places in her life, poor child; but this was as lovely as anything she had ever dreamed. She stood there, lost to everything but the white-blue loveliness before her, until she was startled by a voice from behind. Quark had come in unheard by the small dreamer.  
  
"It's time you were dressed," he said with a strained expression. Quark really did not know how to talk to the child, and most of his previous experiences with Cardassians made him unsure as to how he should approach. Ahn stood up and drew a long breath.  
  
"Oh, isn't it wonderful?" she said, still gazing as the wormhole closed.  
  
"It's very colorful," said Quark, "but in my opinion, the ride through it doesn't amount to much."  
  
"Oh, I don't mean just the wormhole; of course it's lovely...yes, it's RADIANTLY lovely...it welcomes ships as if it meant it...but everything, the station and the stars and the ships and the whole big dear universe. Don't you feel as if you just loved the universe on a morning like this? Why, when I look outside, I can see the stars smiling. Have you ever noticed the smile on a star? It's the very best thing. I'm so glad I could see it up close. Perhaps you think it doesn't make any difference to me when you're not going to keep me, but it does. I shall always like to remember that there are smiling stars near Deep Space Nine even if I never see it again. If there were no stars or wormhole, I'd be HAUNTED by the uncomfortable feeling that there ought to be. I'm not in the depths of despair this morning. I never can be in the morning. Isn't it a splendid thing that there are mornings? But I feel very regretful. I've just been imagining that it was really me you wanted after all and that I was to stay here for ever and ever. It was a great comfort while it lasted. But the worst of imagining things is that the time comes when you have to stop and that is what hurts the most."  
  
"You'd better get dressed." said Quark as soon as he could get a word in edgewise. "Breakfast is waiting. Wash your face and comb your hair. Leave the screen up and fix the bed. We shouldn't waste any more time."  
  
Ahn was seated in the dining room in ten minutes' time, with her clothes neatly on, her hair brushed and braided, her face washed, and a comfortable consciousness pervading her soul that she had fulfilled all Quark's requirements. As a matter of fact, however, she had forgotten to fix the bed.  
  
"I'm pretty hungry this morning," she announced as she slipped into the chair Quark placed for her. "The universe doesn't seem such a howling wilderness as it did last night. I'm so glad it's a quiet morning. But I like busy mornings as well. All sorts of mornings are interesting, don't you think? You don't know what's going to happen through the day, and there's so much scope for imagination. But I'm glad it's not busy today because it's easier to be cheerful and bear up under affliction on a quiet day. I feel that I have a good deal to bear up under. It's all very well to read about sorrows and imagine yourself living through them heroically, but it's not so nice when you really come to have them, is it?"  
  
"It's a nice, quiet morning," said Quark. "And I would like it to stay that way. Now, eat your food before it gets cold."  
  
Thereupon Ahn held her tongue so obediently and thoroughly that her continued silence made Quark rather nervous, as if in the presence of something unnatural. Consequently, the meal was   
  
a very silent one. As the meal progressed, Ahn became more and more abstracted, eating mechanically, with her big eyes fixed unswervingly and unseeingly on nothing. This made Quark more nervous than ever; he had an uncomfortable feeling that while this odd child's body might be there at the table her spirit was far away in another dimension, borne aloft on the wings of imagination. Who would want such a child about the place?  
  
Yet Nog wished for her to stay, of all unaccountable things! Quark assumed that since his nephew hadn't called, he was of the same mind this morning as he had been the night before, and that he would go on wanting it. That was Nog's way; take a whim into his head and cling to it with the most amazing silent persistency, a persistency ten times more potent and effectual in its very silence than if he had talked it out.  
  
When the meal was ended Ahn came out of her reverie and offered to clear the table.  
  
"Do you know how to use a replicator?" asked Quark doubtfully.  
  
"Yes. I'm better at looking after children, though. I've had so much experience at that. It's such a pity you haven't any here for me to look after."  
  
"I don't feel as if I wanted any more children to look after than I've got right now. YOU'RE handful enough. What was going through my nephew's mind when he brought you here I'll never know."  
  
"I think he's lovely," said Ahn reproachfully. "Cousin Nog is so very sympathetic. He didn't mind how much I talked. In fact, he seemed to like it. I felt that he was a kindred spirit as soon as ever I saw him."  
  
Quark flinched. "You're both strange enough, if that's what you mean by kindred spirits... now go on and clear the table. Don't try to carry all the dishes at once, and be sure you wipe the table clean. There's a lot to be done today. I have to contact Vedek Moriel so we can figure out what's to be done with you. But first, finish the table and then go and make your bed."  
  
Ahn cleared the table deftly enough, as Quark who kept a sharp eye on the process, discerned. Later on she made her bed less successfully, for she had never learned the art of wrestling with a quilted bedspread. But is was done somehow and smoothed down; and then Quark, to get rid of her, told her she might go out and have a look at the station until lunch time. Ahn flew to the door, face alight, eyes glowing. On the very threshold she stopped short, wheeled about, came back and sat down on the bed, light and glow as effectually blotted out as if some one had clapped an extinguisher on her.  
  
"What's the matter now?" demanded Quark.  
  
"I don't dare go out," said Ahn, in the tone of a martyr relinquishing all worldly joys. "If I can't stay here there is no use in looking. If I go out there and get acquainted with all the people and places I'll not be able to help but get attached. It's hard enough now, so I won't make it any harder. I want to go out so much...everything seems to be calling to me, but it's best that I don't. There is no use in loving things if you have to be torn from them, is there? And it's so hard to keep from loving things once you've seen them, isn't it? That was why I was so glad when I thought I was going to live here. I thought I'd have so many things to love and nothing to hinder me. But that brief dream is over. I am resigned to my fate now, so I don't think I'll go out for fear I'll get unresigned again. Oh! What is the name of that?"  
  
Ahn motioned for Quark to look out the window. Ahn had singled out one little rock, which to Quark's eyes looked irrelevant.  
  
"I don't know...they're all just space rocks."  
  
"You didn't give it a name? May I give it one then? May I call it...let me see...Oni would do. May I call it Oni while I'm here? Oh, do let me!"  
  
"If that's what you want. But what is the sense of naming it?"  
  
"What's the sense in naming stars, or planets, or starships? It makes them seem more real...like people. How do you know if it hurts a tiny rock's feelings just to be called a rock and nothing else? You wouldn't like to be called nothing but a man all the time. Yes, I shall call it Oni. I even named the wormhole this morning. I call it the Portal of Light. I would call it the Prophet's Portal but no one really knows if there's really anyone in there."  
  
"I never in all my life heard anything equal to her," thought Quark, sitting on the bed opposite Ahn. "She is kind of interesting. I wonder what in the universe she'll say next. She'll be casting a spell over me, too. She's cast it over Nog. But what good is she to me? I can't leave my business to a fe-male !  
  
Ahn fell back on the bed, sighing softly. And here Quark left her until lunch was on the table. Quark got permission to use the runabout Nile again and after lunch, the two of them set off. Quark occupied the helm, while Ahn silently seated herself in the rear. She now was dressed in a bright green dress, and her old straw bag had been replaced with new Starfleet issue. As he piloted the vessel away from the station, Quark said, to nobody in particular it seemed:

"I hope you like the clothes and the bag. No sense in leaving with nothing, is there?"

Ahn made no reply. And in piercing silence, Quark entered course for Bajor.   
  
- - - - -   
  
**EPISODE V  
Ahn's History**  
  
"Do you know," said Ahn, making her way up to the helm, "I've made up my mind to enjoy this journey. It's been my experience that you can nearly always enjoy things if you make up your mind firmly that you will. Of course, you must make it up FIRMLY. I am not going to think about going back to Rivan while we're traveling. I'm just going to think about the journey. Oh, look, there's a bright comet in the distance! Isn't it lovely? Do you wonder what it's like to be a comet? Wouldn't it be something if people could ride comets? It would be quite a ride. And isn't blue the most enchanting color in the world? I love it, but it doesn't look good on me. Cardassians shouldn't wear blue, not even in imagination. Did you ever know of anybody whose hair was red when she was young, but got to be another color when she grew up?"  
  
"No, I don't know as I ever did," said Quark bluntly, "and I don't think it's going to happen in your case either."  
  
Ahn sighed. "Well, that is another hope gone. 'My life is a perfect wasteland of buried hopes." That's a sentence I read in a book once, and I say it over to comfort myself whenever I'm disappointed in anything."  
  
"I don't see how those words can be comforting," said Quark.  
  
"Why, because it sounds so nice and romantic, just as if I were a heroine in a book, you know. I am so fond of romantic things, and a wasteland full of buried hopes is about as romantic a thing as one can imagine isn't it? I'm rather glad I have one. Will we get a chance to see any stars up close?"  
  
"We're not going near any stars. It's down to Bajor and straight west to Rivan Province"  
  
"That sounds like a good way to go," said Ahn dreamily. "Is that the scenic route? I can imagine clouds and oceans and land in my mind, just like that! How far is it to Bajor now?"  
  
"It's two-and-a-half hours; and since you're so intent on talking you might as well tell me what you know about yourself."  
  
"Oh, what I KNOW about myself isn't really worth telling," said Ahn eagerly. "If you'll only let me tell you what I IMAGINE about myself you'll think it ever so much more interesting."  
  
"No, I don't want any of your imaginings. Just stick to the facts. Begin at the beginning. Where were you born and how old are you?"  
  
"I was ten this spring," said Ahn, resigning herself to the facts with a little sigh. "I don't know if that's my real birthdate, though. I don't know exactly where I was born, either. You see, I was found in the wreckage of a shuttle. It crashed right in the middle of a poor Bajoran's farm. Ten people were on board, but I was the only one who survived. The shuttle's computers burned, and they never found out who I was, or who my parents were. I often wonder about them, though. I hope they were good people, and I do hope they had a nice-sounding name. It would be a disgrace to have parents with a name like, say, Goran."  
  
"It doesn't matter what a person's name is as long as they have lived a profitable life," said Quark, feeling himself called upon to quote from the Sacred Texts.  
  
"Well, I don't know." Ahn looked thoughtful. "I read in a book once that a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, but I've never been able to believe it. I don't think a rose WOULD be as nice if it was called a swamp weed or a vole. I suppose my parents could have been good people even if their name was Goran; but I'm sure it would have been a cross. My first home was with the Bajoran farmer. His name was Kor Hedron, and he named me Kor Morel. I don't remember much about him, except that he had this lovely dark curly hair, and he coughed all the time. His house had yellow net curtains on the windows, and they made the prettiest shadows against the floor as the sun rose. I lived there until I was five, when he died in his sleep. It's a shame...I do wish he had lived long enough for me to be of use to him. I think it would've been such an honor to help him weed the crops, or to cook him a nice supper every evening."  
  
"After Mr. Kor died, no one knew what to do with me. He had no family, and none of his friends wanted me. They could barely feed themselves, and they had no use for Cardassians. You see, nobody wanted me even then. It seems to be my fate. Finally, a neighbor named Mr. Veraj said he'd take me, though he had an old grandfather to care for already. He brought me up by hand. Do you know if there is anything in being brought up by hand that ought to make people who are brought up that way better than other people? Because whenever I was naughty Mr. Veraj would ask me how I could be such a bad girl when he had brought me up by hand himself."  
  
"I lived with Mr. Veraj until I was eight years old. I did all the cooking and the cleaning - and I can tell you there was A LOT of both. Then, Mr. Veraj died...he slipped and fell into the river near our home. Drowned straight away. His brother offered to take the grandfather, but he didn't want me. He was at HIS wits' end, so he said, what to do with me. Then Mrs. Aliv, one of his friends from down the river, offered to take me on the condition that I help watch her children. I went down the river to live with her in a little clearing amongst the stumps. It was a very lonesome place. I'm sure I could never have lived there if I hadn't had an imagination. I worked on a farm there, and they had eight children. I like babies in moderation, but eight is just TOO MUCH. I told Mrs. Aliv so firmly, when the last one came. I used to get so dreadfully tired running around after them." "I lived up river with Mrs. Aliv about a year, and then she divorced Mr. Aliv. Mrs. Aliv took the children and went back to her relatives. Mr. Aliv joined the Bajoran Militia. I had to go to the asylum at Rivan, because nobody would take me. They didn't want me at the asylum, either; they said they were overcrowded as it was. But they had to take me and I was there a year until I was chosen to go to Deep Space Nine."  
  
Ahn finished up with another sigh, of relief this time. Evidently she did not like talking about her experiences in a universe that did not want her.  
  
"Did you ever go to school?" asked Quark, for the first time swinging his chair around to face her.  
  
"I went a little after the Occupation ended. But I was always so far from a school that I couldn't walk it in winter, and since there was vacation in the summer, I could only go in the spring and the fall. Of course, I went while I was at the asylum. I can read pretty well and I know so many pieces of poetry by heart. My personal favorite is Vedek Tiran. She wrote this one line: 'for every night there is a dawn' that sends crinkles up and down my spine. Of course, I'm not much good at anything else. In fact, the teachers said it'd be a miracle if I ever learned anything at all."  
  
"Were all the people you've lived with good to you?" asked Quark, looking at Ahn out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"O-o-o-h," faltered Ahn. Her sensitive little face suddenly flushed scarlet and embarrassment sat on her brow. "Oh, they MEANT to be...I know they meant to be just as good and kind as possible. And when people mean to be good to you, you don't mind very much when they're not quite... always. They all had a good deal to worry them, you know. It's very trying to be poor and sick, and to have an old grandfather, and to have eight little children. And I KNOW it's trying to take care of a Cardassian when all you've known them to do is cause you suffering, don't you think? But I feel sure they all MEANT to be good to me."  
  
Quark asked no more questions. Ahn gave herself up to a silent rapture as the shuttle effortlessly penetrated Bajor's atmosphere. Pity was suddenly stirring in his heart for the child. What an unprofitable, unloved life she had had. A life of drudgery and neglect, for Quark was sharp enough to read between the lines of Ahn's history and distill the truth. No wonder she had been so delighted at the prospect of life on Deep Space Nine. It was a pity she had to be sent back. But what if he could entertain Nog's unaccountable suggestion and let her stay? He was so set on it; and the child seemed a nice, teachable little thing.  
  
"She talks a mile a minute," thought Quark, "but she could be taught to control herself."  
  
As the runabout approached the clearing, Ahn was visibly tense. "I'm afraid I've gone in a circle," she said mournfully. "And I've just about reached the end. When I step out of this shuttle, it will all be finished."


	2. Ahn of Deep Space Nine Episodes 6 to 10

**Ahn of Deep Space Nine**  
  
A fan-novel, based on _Anne of Green Gables_ by Lucy Maud Montgomery and _STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE.  
  
DISCLAIMER:_ This was written solely for the sake of fun. No money is being made here, and no copyright infringement is intended. Takes place after "What You Leave Behind," the final episode of _Deep Space Nine._

- - - - -   
  
**EPISODE VI  
Quark Makes Up His Mind**  
  
Quark was the first to reach the doors of the asylum, and when he did, he was greeted by Vedek Moriel. An expression of surprise and welcome mingled on his wrinkled, benevolent face.

"Prophets be praised," he exclaimed, "I wasn't expecting visitors today, but I'm so very glad to see you. Please, please come in. The elderly man led them to a cramped office right off the entrance. He motioned for the three to sit, which they did rather uneasily.  
  
"So," the Vedek inquired, slowly seating himself behind a desk that took up a majority of space, "What brings you to Rivan this day? I take it that things are going well with you and Morel..."  
  
"She prefers to be called Ahn," Quark meekly interjected.  
  
"So you've decided to change your name after all." The Vedek said, smiling brightly at the girl. "I hope it serves you well. And how are you doing, Ahn?"  
  
"As well as can be expected, sir," said Ahn smilelessly. A blight seemed to have descended on her.  
  
"The fact is, sir," Quark explained. "There's been a mistake somewhere, and I've come to rectify it. When I said I was interested in a child from your asylum I meant I wanted a...Bajoran boy."  
  
"Oh...my," said Vedek Moriel, clearly stunned. "What a dreadful mistake. This must have been an oversight on my part. I suppose my old mind isn't what it used to be. How embarrassing it must have been for you, and how terrible for the child."  
  
"It was my nephew's fault," Quark was quick to point out. "He should've said something to you immediately. Anyhow, the mistake has been made and the only thing to do is to set it right. So, I've come to return her. I can bring her back, can't I?"  
  
"If that is your wish." The Vedek then turned his attention to Ahn, who had been looking down at her feet the entire time. "I'm so sorry this had to happen, child, but I promise you I'll make up for it. As a matter of fact, my dear friend Mrs. Yirol was here yesterday, and she was saying to me how much she would like a companion. She is a lady of strong character, and high standing in these parts. Perhaps you would be the very girl for her. It's a matter worth pursuing."  
  
Quark did not look as if he thought the matter was worth pursuing. Here was an unexpectedly good chance to get this unwelcome orphan off his hands, and he did not even feel grateful for it. Quark knew of Mrs. Yirol because she had visited the station about a year before. She was the owner of a transport company, and she ruled her workers with a titanium fist. He had heard numerous tales from employees of Yirol's temper and stinginess, and of her family of snobbish, quarrelsome children. Quark felt a qualm of conscience at the thought of handing Ahn over.  
  
"Perhaps you can give me a moment to think..."  
  
Before he could finish, Quark was interrupted by a loud beep. Excusing himself, Vedek Moriel swung round in his chair. With a gentle tap, he switched on his communicator. In a flash, the rich gold symbol of the Bajoran faith was replaced by the pale pink image of Mrs. Yirol.  
  
"My dear Mrs. Yirol! How glad I am to receive your call. I do hope you're feeling much better today."  
  
"Not by much, I'm afraid. Why, I slept over ten hours, but I woke up this morning completely exhausted. I had this horrible dream that I was being chased by a pack of wild tribbles. Then, at breakfast, the maid, an Orion girl, spilled an entire container of jumja preserves on my lap. Quite frankly, dear Vedek I don't know how I put up with this from day to day. The Prophets must be testing me..."  
  
Ahn, sitting with her hands clasped tightly in her lap, stared at Mrs. Yirol as one fascinated. Was she to be given into the keeping of this sharp-faced, dull-eyed Bajoran woman? She felt a lump coming up in her throat and her eyes smarted painfully. She feared that she couldn't keep the tears back as the Vedek finally got around to discussing her.  
  
"It seems there's been a mistake about this young girl, Mrs. Yirol," he said. "I was under the impression that he would accept a Cardassian child, but it seems that I was in error. So, if you're still of the same mind you were yesterday, I think she'll be just the thing for you."  
  
Mrs. Yirol sighed impassionately, brushing away a loose strand of blond hair. "I suppose if you've seen one orphan you've seen them all. How old is she and what's her name?"  
  
"Kor Ahn, and she's ten years old."  
  
Vedek Moriel turned around, motioning for Ahn to stand in front of the viewscreen.  
  
"A Cardassian...humph!" she said, eying her as best she could. "Don't look as if there's much to her, but I suppose she'll do. She looks wiry, and they say the wiry ones are the best - they don't mind a lot of movement. I'll expect the girl to learn her place, and there's lots for her to learn. My breakfast must be served at the break of dawn, and my linens must be folded in stacks of three tied together with yellow ribbons..."  
  
Quark looked at Ahn and softened at the sight of the child's face with its look of mute misery - the misery of a helpless little creature who finds itself once more caught in the trap from which it had escaped. Quark felt an uncomfortable conviction that, if he denied the appeal of that look, it would haunt him for the rest of his days. Moreover, he despised Mrs. Yirol. To hand a sensitive, 'high-strung' child over to such a woman! No, he could not live with the thought of doing that!  
  
"Well, you know," Quark interrupted unexpectedly. "I didn't say that I had ABSOLUTELY decided that I wouldn't keep her. In fact, I may say that I was very seriously considering the idea. I just came to find out how this mistake had occurred in the first place. I think I need some time with Ahn, to see if I can make this work. I mean, why be so quick to judge? If I make up my mind not to keep her I'll bring her back by the end of the week. Now doesn't that sound fair, Mrs. Yirol?  
  
"I suppose it is your right," said Mrs. Yirol ungraciously. "But I do not intend to wait forever." And with that, the lady flatly said her good-byes."  
  
When the screen went blank, the Vedek stared at Quark in confusion. Meanwhile, a sunrise was dawning on Ahn's face. First the look of despair faded out; then came a faint flush of hope; then the eyes grew deep and bright as morning stars. The child was quite transfigured; and at warp speed, she flew across the room to Quark.  
  
"Oh, did you really say that perhaps you would let me stay with you on the station?" she said, in a breathless whisper, as if speaking aloud might shatter the glorious possibility.  
  
"Did you really say it? Or did I only imagine that you did?"  
  
"I think you'd better learn to control that imagination of yours, Ahn, if you can't distinguish between what's real and what isn't," said Quark sternly. "Yes, you did hear me say just that and no more. It isn't decided yet and I may conclude to let Mrs. Yirol take you after all. She seems to need you much more than I do."  
  
"I'd rather go back to the asylum than live with her," said Ahn passionately. "She looks exactly like a - like a wompat."  
  
Quark smothered a smile under the conviction that Ahn must be reproved for such a speech.  
  
"A little girl like you should be ashamed of talking so about a lady and a stranger," he said severely. "Now sit back down quietly and behave as a good girl should."  
  
"I'll try to do and be anything you want me, if you'll only keep me," said Ahn, meekly settling down.  
  
Quark said nothing further, even after returning to Deep Space Nine that evening. As he cleared the table from a quick supper, Quark debated the issue repeatedly in his mind. Finally he came to his conclusion. "I suppose I could get used to her. It seems strange, raising a Cardassian, and I dare say I'll make a terrible mess of it. But I'll do my best. As far as I'm concerned she may stay. I may not know much about Cardassians, but then no one anywhere is born knowing how to be a parent. Guess you learn something every day."  
  
Hours after Ahn had fallen asleep, Quark lay in his bed, staring up at the pitch-black ceiling. "Well, you're really in for it now. Did you ever suppose you'd see the day when you'd be raising a Cardassian girl? It's crazy enough; but what makes it even crazier is that Nog should be the cause of it, he who always seemed to have such a fear of Cardassians. At any rate, I'm plunging into this head on and who knows what will ultimately come of it."   
  
- - - - -   
  
**EPISODE VII  
Ahn's Bringing-up Is Begun**  
  
For reasons best known to himself, Quark did not tell Ahn that she could stay until the following afternoon. In the interim, he kept the child busy with various tasks and watched over her with a keen eye while she did them. By noon, he had concluded that Ahn was smart and obedient, willing to work and quick to learn; her most serious shortcoming seemed to be a tendency to fall into daydreams in the middle of a task and forget all about it until such time as she was sharply recalled to reality by a reprimand or a catastrophe.  
  
When Ahn had finished wiping tables down at the bar, she confronted Quark near the gaming tables. Her face had the air and expression of one desperately determined to learn the worst. Her thin little body trembled from head to foot; her face flushed and her eyes dilated until they were almost black; she clasped her hands tightly and said in an imploring voice:  
  
"Oh, please, Mr. Quark, won't you tell me if you are going to send me back or not?" I've tried to be patient all morning, but I can't bear the wait any longer. My stomach is in knots. Please tell me."  
  
"You haven't put the chairs back as I told you to do," said Quark immovably. "Just go and do it before you ask any more questions."  
  
Ahn went and quickly put back the chairs. Then she returned, fastening imploring eyes on the Ferengi's face.  
  
"Well," said Quark, unable to find any excuse for deferring her explanation longer, "I suppose I might as well tell you. I've decided to keep you - that is, if you'll be a good girl and show yourself worthy. What ARE you doing?"  
  
"I'm crying," said Ahn in a tone of bewilderment. "I don't know why. I'm incredibly happy. Oh, HAPPY doesn't seem the proper word at all. I was happy about the Pathway and the Portal - but this! Oh, it's something more than happy. I'm so exhilarated. I'll try to be good. It will be uphill work, I expect, for Vedek Tola often told me I was terribly wicked. However, I'll do my very best. But can you tell me why I'm crying?"  
  
"I suppose it's because you're all excited and worked up," said Quark, smiling faintly. "Sit down and try to calm yourself. I'm afraid you both cry and laugh far too easily. Yes, you can stay here and I'll try to do right by you.  
  
"What am I to call you?" asked Ahn. "Can I call you father?"  
  
Quark's eye twitched involuntarily at the thought. "You may call me Quark."  
  
"It sounds awfully disrespectful to just say that," protested Ahn.  
  
"There'll be nothing disrespectful in it if you're careful in how you speak. Everybody on the station calls me Quark, except the Vedeks. They always say "my dear child." Those words always made him recoil with disgust.  
  
"I'd love to call you father," said Ahn wistfully. "I've never had a father or any relation at all. It would make me feel as if I really were a part of the family. Can I call you father then?"  
  
"No. I don't believe in calling people names that don't belong to them. You are an apprentice and I am the master. I brought you here to learn. I may not be able to leave my business to you, but at least I can teach you to be a good assistant."  
  
"But," Ahn continued, "We could imagine you were really my father."  
  
"I couldn't," said Quark grimly.  
  
"Don't you never imagine things different from what they really are?" asked Ahn wide-eyed.  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh!" Ahn drew a long breath. "Oh Mr. Quark, how much you miss!"  
  
"I don't believe in imagining things different from what they really are," retorted Quark. "When we find ourselves in certain circumstances, there's no point in imagining them away. And that reminds me. Go behind the bar Ahn...be sure your hands are clean...and bring me those data padds on the third shelf. Those are the complete Ferengi Guides to Commerce. Everything I learned about the universe I learned from those books. I expect you to devote an hour a day to learning them by heart.  
  
Ahn promptly departed. When she failed to return after several minutes, Quark marched after her with a grim expression. He found Ahn staring down at the padds in her hands. The station's lighting fell over the rapt little figure with an otherworldly radiance.  
  
"Ahn, what are you doing?" demanded Quark sharply.  
  
Ahn came back to this plane with a start.  
  
"That," she said, picking up one of the padds. On screen was a drawing of the former Grand Nagus Zek surrounded by several reverent-looking Ferengi boys. The title appeared above in intricate, gold-colored lettering. Ahn was particularly taken by one child, dressed in a muted beige robe. He stood at the edge, furthest away from the Nagus. "I was just imagining how much this picture fits me...that I was that lone soul, standing off in the corner, not really belonging. How lonely and sad, don't you think? But he wants to belong, too, so he just crept shyly up on the outside of the crowd, hoping nobody would notice...except the Nagus. I'm sure I know just how he felt. His little heart must have beat and his hands must have got cold, like mine did when I asked you if I could stay. He was afraid the Nagus mightn't notice. But it's likely he did, don't you think? I've been trying to imagine it all out...him edging a little closer until he was beside him; and then he would notice and he would gently pat his head and oh, such a thrill of joy would run over him! But I wish the artist hadn't painted the Nagus so funny looking. Does he really look like that? I don't believe he could...the children would have been afraid of him."  
  
"Ahn," said Quark, wondering why he had not broken into this speech long before, "You shouldn't talk that way. It's disrespectful."  
  
Ahn's eyes marveled.  
  
"Why, I felt just as respectful as could be. I'm sure I didn't mean to be disrespectful."  
  
"Well I don't suppose you did - but it doesn't sound right to talk that way. Zek was the greatest leader Ferenginar ever had. And another thing, Ahn, when I send you after something you're to bring it at once and not fall into imagining. Remember that. Now take these padds and study them. I want you to learn everything by heart."  
  
Ahn emerged from behind the counter. She climbed onto the closest stool, spread out the padds before her, propped her chin on her hands, and began reading the first verses intently for several silent minutes.  
  
"I like this," she announced at length. "It's beautiful. I didn't know that commerce could be so beautiful. This isn't poetry, but it makes me feel the same way poetry does. 'A wise man can hear profit in the wind.' That is just like a line of music. Oh, I'm so glad you thought of making me learn this, Mr. Quark."  
  
"Well, learn it in silence," said Quark shortly.  
  
Ahn diligently studied the padds for some moments longer.  
  
"Mr. Quark," she demanded presently, "do you think that I shall ever have a bosom friend on this station?"  
  
"A what kind of friend?"  
  
"A bosom friend...a best friend, you know - a really kindred spirit to whom I can confide my innermost soul. I've dreamed of meeting her...or him...all my life. I never really supposed I would, but so many of my dreams have come true as of late that perhaps this one will, too. Do you think it's possible?"  
  
"Well, there are quite a few children your age on the station. Perhaps I can arrange for you to meet some of them. You'll have to watch how you behave, though. Their parents are officers and ambassadors, and they won't let their sons and daughters associate with just anyone."

Ahn looked up at Quark, her eyes aglow with interest.  
  
"What are these children like? Are they pretty? Oh, I hope so. It's bad enough to be homely myself, but I positively couldn't endure it in a friend."  
  
"They come from all over: Bajor, Vulcan, Earth, Bolarus, to name a few. And they all seem to be very intelligent, which is better than any outward appearances."  
  
As of late, Quark had become quite a diligent student of morality. He memorized countless axioms, and attempted to tack one onto every remark made to the girl he was now bringing up. In this case, Ahn dismissed the lesson in favor of the delightful possibilities preceding it.  
  
"Oh, I'm so glad. Next to being handsome, it would be best to have an intelligent friend. When I lived with Mrs. Aliv she had a bookcase in her sitting room with glass doors. There weren't any books in it; Mrs. Aliv kept her jumja preserves there...when she had any preserves to keep. One of the doors was smashed when a drunk Cardassian soldier broke into the house. But the other door was whole and I used to pretend that my reflection in it was another little girl who lived in it. I called her Nisran, and we were very close. I used to talk to her by the hour, especially before sunrise, and tell her everything. Nisran was the comfort and consolation of my life. We used to pretend that the bookcase was enchanted and that if I only knew the spell I could open the door and step right into the room where Nisran lived, instead of into Mrs. Aliv's shelves of preserves. And then Nisran would have taken me by the hand and led me out into a wonderful place, all flowers and sunshine and blue skies, and we would have lived there happy for ever after. When I went to live at the asylum it just broke my heart to leave Nisran. She felt it dreadfully, too, I know she did, for she was crying when she kissed me good-bye through the bookcase door. There were no book-cases at the asylum. But in the cellar below the building was a little room where the loveliest echo lived. It echoed back every word you said, even if only a whisper. So I imagined that it was a little boy called Gevrel and we were great friends and I loved him almost as I loved Nisran...not quite, but almost, you know. The night before I came here I said good-bye to Gevrel, and oh, his good-bye came back to me in such sad, sad tones. I had become so attached to him that at first, I hadn't the heart to imagine a bosom friend here, even if there had been any scope for imagination there."  
  
"I think it's just as well there wasn't," said Quark dryly. "I don't approve of such goings-on. You seem to half believe your own imaginations. It will be good for you to have a real friend so you can put that other nonsense out of your head. I sincerely hope you don't let anyone hear you talking about your Nisrans and your Gevrels or they'll think you're unbalanced."  
  
"Oh, I won't. I couldn't talk about them to just anybody...their memories are too sacred for that. But I thought I'd like to have you know about them."  
  
"I hope you not fickle minded." Quark sniffed. "I told you to learn and not talk. But it seems impossible for you to stop talking if you've got anybody that will listen to you. So I will leave you to your learning."  
  
"Oh, I know this one volume well now...all but just the last line."  
  
"I want you to know it completely. Stay here and study until the bar opens."  
  
"Can I go up to the holosuites instead?" pleaded Ahn. "There I can make a place where nothing will distract me."  
  
"No...you'll be just fine here. Besides, holosuites are distractions by nature. I bet you would just go up there and play."  
  
Ahn shook her head adamantly. "Oh, I wouldn't want to disrespect you that way. But I admit, the temptation is IRRESISTIBLE. What do you do when you meet with an irresistible temptation?"  
  
"Ahn, did you hear me tell you to study?"  
  
Ahn sighed, looking down at the padd.  
  
"There...I know this one now. I've learned the last sentence. Now I'm going to imagine things into this room so that they'll always stay imagined. The floor is covered with a gold, plush velvet carpet and there are matching curtains at the window. The walls are hung with ancient tapestries. The furniture is Bolian mahogany. I've never really seen Bolian mahogany, but it sounds SO luxurious. This is a couch all piled high with silken cushions, green and blue and red and gold, and I am reclining gracefully on it. I can see my reflection in a splendid big mirror hanging on the wall. I am tall and regal, clad in a gown of trailing blue velvet, with my hair braided and latinum bracelets handing from my wrists. My hair is midnight black, and my skin a warm gray. Everyone calls me the Honorable Miss Ahn."  
  
She jumped from her stool, dancing towards the edge of the counter. Peering into its shiny surface, she saw her pale gray face, solemn blue eyes, and dark auburn hair.  
  
"No, you're Ahn of Deep Space Nine," she said earnestly, "and I see you, just as you are looking now, whenever I try to imagine the Honorable Miss. But it's a million times nicer to be Ahn of Deep Space Nine than Ahn of nowhere, isn't it?"  
  
She bent forward, touching her reflection affectionately. Then, she returned to her stool. She sat, dangling her legs, with her eyes meeting Quark's.  
  
"Have a good afternoon, Quark. And a good afternoon to Deep Space Nine. And a good afternoon to the stars and the Portal of Light. I wonder if I shall ever have any friends. I promise to be a good loyal friend, if given the chance. But I will never forget Nisran and Gevrel. They would feel so hurt if I did and I hate to hurt anybody's feelings, even a little bookcase girl's or a little echo boy's. I will always remember them. You always remember your first friends. And with that, Ahn reached for volume two.

- - - - -   
  
**EPISODE VIII  
Commander Kira is Horrified**  
  
Ahn had been on Deep Space Nine for two weeks before Commander Kira came to introduce herself. To be fair, she was not to blame for this, for she and most of the senior staff had travelled to Klaestron IV for a conference. Kira was not used to missing visits with colleagues, but as she often said, "duty is the first call". As soon as circumstance allowed, Kira ventured to the Habitat Ring, bursting with curiosity to see the orphan, concerning whom all sorts of stories and suppositions were beginning to circulate.  
  
During that time, Ahn had made good use of every waking moment. She became fast friends with Nog. He eagerly assumed the role of a mentor, showing Ahn the station and buying her all the jumja sticks she could eat. Ahn also met the Siskos, who gave her an antique watch; Counselor Ezri Dax, who gave her hair ribbons from Trill; and Dr. Julian Bashir, who gave her a complete physical. Ahn in particular liked the tall human with the British accent, though he often gave her the oddest looks.  
  
During this time, Ahn had also come to know Saturn, the Sisko's pet cat. For some reason, he had taken to following her whenever she left her quarters. At first, she tried to ignore him. Quark warned her that Terran felines could be extremely violent. Yet Saturn seemed quite harmless. In fact, he greeted Ahn with the most affectionate purrs.  
  
By the middle of the second week, Saturn had taken to standing outside her quarters. "I wonder why he does that?" Ahn thought to herself. "He has a home. He has food and a nice warm bed, but there he is, staring at me like a beggar. Perhaps he is looking for something. Maybe he's lonely. Maybe he's looking for a new friend. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to pick him up just once." So the next morning, Ahn rushed outside, where she found Saturn curled up near the door. Quickly, she rushed over, scooping up the cat and stroking his soft fur. Ahn was about to bring him inside when she spotted Commander Kira, strolling casually down the corridor with Quark. The Bajoran with the bright blond hair and the crimson uniform was describing her debate with the Tholian prime minister in such detail that Quark was beginning to think that even death must bring its compensations. Kira took her time finishing, and when she did, she finally revealed the real reason of her call.  
  
"I've been hearing some surprising things about you."  
  
"I don't suppose you are any more surprised than I am myself," said Quark. "I'm getting over my surprise now."  
  
"It's a shame there was such a mistake," said Kira sympathetically. "Couldn't you have sent the girl back?"  
  
"I suppose I could have, but I decided not to. I kind of became attached to her. I admit she has her faults, but the station seems a different place already. She's a very bright little thing."  
  
Quark had said more than he had intended to say, for he read disapproval in Kira's expression.  
  
"It's a great responsibility you've taken on yourself," she said warily, "You don't know much about her or her real disposition, and there's no guessing how a child like that will turn out. But please don't take it the wrong way. I don't want to discourage you."  
  
"I'm not feeling discouraged," was Quark's quick response. "I've found that when I make up my mind to do something, I don't let anything...or anyone...stand in the way. I suppose you'd like to meet her now. And there she is over there..."  
  
Quark smiled at Ahn, motioning for her to come join them. Ahn stood motionless, as if caught in the blinding glare of a police searchlight. Saturn leapt from her arms and disappeared down the corridor. Abashed at finding herself in such a bind, Ahn could do nothing but stare helplessly as the two approached. She certainly was an odd-looking little creature in the short plain asylum nightgown, below which her thin legs seemed ungracefully long. Her face was as pale and obtrusive than ever; her long hair never messier and redder than at that moment.  
  
"Commander," Quark said with a grand gesture, "I'd like you to meet Kor Ahn."  
  
"Well, she's certainly an interesting little thing," Kira said emphatically as she looked her over.   
  
She was one of those delightful and popular people who pride themselves on speaking their mind without fear or favor. "She's terribly skinny, isn't she? I hope you're feeding her! And her hair, it's brighter than Casperian beets."  
  
"She's eating plenty." Quark said, slightly flustered. "Now, Ahn, don't be shy. Why don't you say something?"  
  
"Ahn 'said something,' but not exactly as Quark or Kira expected. With one bound she stood before the Commander, her face blue with anger, her lips quivering, and her whole slender form trembling from head to foot.  
  
"I hate you," she cried in a choked voice, stamping her foot on the floor. "I hate you -I hate you- I hate you!" a louder stamp with each assertion of hatred. "How dare you call me skinny- how dare you make fun of my hair. You are a rude, impolite, unfeeling MONSTER!"  
  
"Ahn!" exclaimed Quark in shock.  
  
But Ahn stared up at Kira undauntedly, head up, eyes blazing, hands clenched, passionate indignation exhaling from her like an atmosphere.  
  
"How dare you make fun of my hair." she said again vehemently. "How would you like to have such things said about you? How would you like to be told that you are mean and probably hadn't a spark of imagination in you? I don't care if I do hurt your feelings by saying so! I do hope I hurt them. You have hurt mine worse than they were ever hurt before even by that drunk soldier. And I'll NEVER forgive you for it, never, never!"  
  
STAMP! STAMP!  
  
"Well I...I've never seen such rudeness...not even in a Klingon!" exclaimed Kira.  
  
"Ahn, go to your room and stay there until I come," said Quark. His voice has never sounded so angry.  
  
Ahn, bursting into tears, rushed through the door of their quarters. Like a whirlwind, she fled through the hall and into her room. Her sobs, though muffled by metal walls and pillows, could still be heard with agonizing clarity.  
  
"Well, I don't envy you," said Commander Kira solemnly.  
  
Quark opened his lips, attempting to offer some sort of apology. But what he actually said was a surprise to himself then and ever afterwards.  
  
"You shouldn't have made fun of her looks."  
  
"Quark, you don't mean to say that you're condoning her behavior?" demanded Kira indignantly.  
  
"No," said Quark slowly, "I'm not trying to excuse her. Her behavior was unacceptable, but we've got to give her some leeway. She's new here. And to be honest, you WERE too hard on her."  
  
Quark could not help tacking on that last sentence, although he was again surprised at himself for doing it. Kira was taken aback.  
  
"Well, I see that I'll have to be very careful what I say after this, Quark, since the feelings of someone brought from goodness knows where have to be considered above all else. Don't get me wrong, I'm not offended. But I do feel sorry for you. You'll have your hands full with that one. Take my advice...which I suppose you won't do...and shrink that 'leeway' of yours down to a minimum. I think some DISCIPLINE would be the most effective thing for that kind of a child. Her nature matches her appearance."  
  
With that, Kira politely bid Quark good day, and strolled off. As he stood in the corridor, alone, the Ferengi uneasily pondered his options. He couldn't believe what had just occurred. How embarrassing that Ahn should have displayed such temper before her of all people! Then Quark suddenly became aware of an uncomfortable and rebuking consciousness that he felt more humiliation over this than sorrow over the discovery of such a serious defect in Ahn's disposition.   
  
Quark found Ahn face downward on her bed, crying bitterly, quite oblivious to the presence of another.  
  
How in the universe was he to punish her? The traditional Ferengi method...a switch from a rizmat tree...did not seem appropriate. Besides, his own cousin Gaila was living testimony to its ineffectiveness. No, there must be some other way to make Ahn realize the enormity of her offense.  
  
"Ahn," he said in his usual voice.  
  
No answer.  
  
"Ahn," much louder, "turn around and listen to what I have to say."   
  
Ahn turned around and sat up, her face swollen and tear-stained and her eyes fixed stubbornly on the floor.  
  
"That was Commander Kira Nerys, the COMMANDING OFFICER of Deep Space Nine. Why'd you have to make such a scene?"  
  
"She hadn't any right to call me ugly and bright-headed," retorted Ahn, evasive and defiant.  
  
"You hadn't any right to talk the way you did to her, Ahn. I was quite embarrassed. I wanted you make a good impression, and instead you made me look like a fool. I don't know why you lost your temper like that. All she did was say you were red-haired and homely. You say it yourself often enough."  
  
"Oh, but there's such a difference between saying a thing yourself and hearing other people say it," Ahn retorted. "You may know a thing is so, but you can't help hoping other people don't quite think it is. I suppose you think I have an awful temper, but I couldn't help it. When she said those things something just rose up in me and I reacted. I HAD to do something to protect myself."  
  
"Well, you made quite an impression, that's for sure. Commander Kira will have quite a story to tell about you. Soon the whole station will hear it. It was a terrible thing for you to lose your temper like that."  
  
"Just imagine how you would feel if somebody told you to your face that you were skinny and ugly," pleaded Ahn tearfully.  
  
An old remembrance suddenly popped into Quark's head. He had just turned five when he had heard one of his uncles say of him to another, "Too bad about his ears. He won't have the business sense of a tube grub." Quark was well into adulthood before the sting had gone out of that memory.  
  
"I don't say that I agree with Kira in saying what she did to you, Ahn," he admitted in a softer tone. "Sometimes, Kira can be too outspoken. But that is no excuse for what you did. She is an officer and an associate and my boss -all three very good reasons why you should have been respectful to her. You were very rude and" - Quark had a sudden inspiration of punishment - "you must go to her and tell her you are very sorry for your bad temper and ask her to forgive you."  
  
"I will never do that," said Ahn determinedly and darkly. "You can punish me in any way you like. You can shut me up in a dark, damp dungeon inhabited by Klingon targs and feed me only on bread and water and I shall not complain. But I cannot ask Commander Kira to forgive me."  
  
"We're not in the habit of shutting people up in dark damp dungeons," said Quark matter-of-factly, "and there aren't many targs in these parts. You must apologize to her and you'll stay here in your room until you can tell me you're willing to do it."  
  
"I shall have to stay here forever then," said Ahn mournfully, "because I can't tell him I'm sorry for the things I said to him. How can I? I'm NOT sorry. I'm sorry I've embarrassed you; but I'm GLAD I told her what I was thinking. It was a great satisfaction. I can't say I'm sorry when I'm not, can I? I can't even IMAGINE I'm sorry."  
  
"Maybe you'll be able to imagine it by tomorrow," said Quark, rising to depart. "You'll have all of today and tonight to think it over. You said you would try to be good if I kept you on the station, but it doesn't seem like it's turning out that way."  
  
Leaving this thought to sink into Ahn's mind, Quark retired to his bed, distressed in mind and exhausted in spirit. He was as angry with himself as with Ahn, because, whenever he recalled Kira's dumb-founded expression his lips twitched with amusement and he felt a most improper desire to laugh.  
  
- - - - -   
  
**EPISODE IX  
Ahn's Apology**  
  
Breakfast and lunch were very silent meals - for Ahn remained as stubborn as ever. At each meal, Quark carried a well-filled tray to the door and brought it back later not much depleted. Quark eyed its last descent with a troubled eye. Had Ahn eaten anything at all? After Quark went to work that evening, Lieutenant Nog, who was spending his shift repairing fused plasma conduits, slipped into his uncle's quarters with the air of a burglar and crept towards Ahn's room. He stood in thought for several minutes outside the door before tapping it with his finger. When no one answered, he entered his access code.  
  
The door opened to reveal Ahn, who was sitting in a chair by the window gazing mournfully out at the stars. She looked very small and unhappy, and Nog could feel his heart sink. As the door closed softly behind him, Nog tiptoed over.  
  
"Well, Ahn," he said, as if nothing was wrong, "How are you this evening?" Ahn smiled wanly.  
  
"Pretty well, Cousin. I imagine a good deal, and that helps to pass the time. Of course, it's rather lonesome. But then, I may as well get used to that."  
  
Ahn smiled again, bravely facing the long years of solitary imprisonment before her. Nog figured that he had wasted enough time with pleasantries. "Ahn, don't you think you'd better do it and get it over with? I mean - you'll have to sooner or later. Uncle Quark's a determined man - very determined, Ahn. Do it now, I say, and the matter will be settled."  
  
"Do you mean apologize to Commander Kira?"  
  
"Yes - apologize - that's the very word," said Nog eagerly. "Just smooth it over so to speak. That's what I was trying to get at."  
  
"I suppose I could do it...for you," said Ahn thoughtfully. "It would be true enough to say I am sorry, because I AM sorry now. I wasn't a bit sorry last night. I was very angry, and I stayed angry all night. I know I did because I woke up three times and I was just furious every time. But this morning it was over. It didn't burn anymore, and it left a dreadful sort of emptiness, too. I felt so ashamed of myself. But I just couldn't think of going and telling Kira so. It would be so humiliating. I made up my mind I'd stay shut up here forever rather than do that. But still, I'd do anything for you. If you really want me to..."  
  
"Well now, of course I do. It's very sad, eating a jumja stick alone. Just go and smooth things over, like a good girl."  
  
"Very well," said Ahn resignedly. "I'll tell Mr. Quark as soon as he comes in."  
  
"That's right, Ahn. But don't tell him I said anything about it. I want him to think that you came to this conclusion entirely on your own."  
  
"Wild grekhols won't drag the secret from me," promised Ahn solemnly. "How would wild grekhols drag a secret from a person anyhow?"  
  
But Nog was long gone. He fled hastily back to Ops and his fused plasma coils. Quark should've suspected what Nog had been up to. Returning home early next morning, the Ferengi was surprised to hear a plaintive little voice calling his name.  
  
"Yes?" he said, coming down the hall.  
  
"I'm sorry I lost my temper and said rude things, and I'm willing to go and tell Commander Kira so."  
  
"Very well." Quark's crispness gave no sign of his relief. He had been wondering all through his shift what he should do if Ahn did not give in. "I'll take you to her office later this afternoon."

Accordingly, later that afternoon, Quark and Ahn walked down the Promenade, the former erect and triumphant, the latter drooping and dejected. But halfway to the Commander's office, Ahn's dejection vanished as if by enchantment. She lifted her head and stepped lightly along, her eyes roaming with an air of subdued exhilaration.  
  
Quark beheld the change with apprehension. This was not the humble penitent he wanted to bring before the offended party.  
  
"What are you thinking of, Ahn?" he asked with a sense of urgency.  
  
"I'm imagining out what I must say to the Commander," answered Ahn dreamily. This was satisfactory, or should have been so. But Quark could not rid himself of the notion that something in his scheme of punishment was going wrong. Ahn had no business to look so rapt and radiant. Rapt and radiant Ahn continued until they were in the very presence of Commander Kira, who was sitting behind her desk. Then the radiance vanished. Mournful penitence appeared on every ridged feature. Before a word was spoken, Ahn touched her wrists together, then went down on her knees in the traditional Ferengi posture of reverence. The Commander was astonished.  
  
"Oh, Commander, I am so extremely sorry," she said with a quiver in her voice. "I could never express all my sorrow, no, there are not words enough. You must just imagine it. I behaved terribly towards you, and I've dishonored my master, who was kind enough to take me as his apprentice although I'm not Ferengi or Bajoran. I'm an evil and ungrateful child, and I deserve to be punished and cast out from the society of respectable people forever. It was very wicked of me to fly into a temper because you spoke the truth. It WAS the truth; every word you said was true. My hair is bright and red and I'm thin and ugly. What I said to you was true, too, but I shouldn't have said it. Oh, ma'am, please, please, forgive me. If you refuse it will be a lifelong sorrow on a poor little orphan girl. Would you, could you, forgive her for having a dreadful temper? Oh, I am sure you wouldn't. Please say you forgive me, ma'am."  
  
Ahn bowed her head, and waited for the word of judgment. There was no mistaking her sincerity - it permeated every word. Both Quark and Commander Kira recognized its unmistakable ring. But the former understood in dismay that Ahn was actually enjoying this moment of humiliation. Where was the punishment which he had so carefully considered? How would Ahn learn from this?  
  
In contrast, the good Commander only perceived that Ahn had made a very thorough apology and all resentment vanished from her heart.  
  
"There, there, get up," she said heartily. "Of course I forgive you. I suppose I was a little too hard on you. I do sometimes say things that I shouldn't. It can't be denied your hair is a little bright, but I must admit that once my hair was almost as red as yours. And I didn't turn out so bad, did I?"  
  
"Oh, Commander!" Ahn drew a long breath as she rose to her feet. "You have given me hope. I shall always feel indebted to you. Oh, I could endure anything if I only thought my hair would darken up when I grow older. It would be so much easier to be good if one's hair was a hand- some black, don't you think? And now may I go outside and have a jumja stick by the window? There's more scope to the imagination out there."  
  
Kira looked to Quark, who nodded silently. "Well, I don't see any problem with that. In fact, tell the vendor to put it on my account."  
  
As the door closed behind Ahn, Kira rose briskly from her seat.  
  
"She certainly is an odd child, but I'll admit, she does have potential. I don't feel so surprised at you for keeping her as I once did -nor do I feel sorry for you, either. She may turn out all right. Of course, she has an odd way of expressing herself...a little too...forced, you know; but she'll learn better now that she's living on the station. And then, her temper's pretty quick, but I'm sure she'll outgrow that as well. On the whole, I kind of like her."  
  
When Ahn saw Quark exit the Commander's office, she skipped towards him, happily twirling a mostly-eaten jumja stick.  
  
"I apologized pretty well, didn't I?" she said as they walked down the Promenade. "I thought since I had to do it I might as well do it thoroughly."  
  
"You did it thoroughly, all right," was Quark's comment. He was dismayed at finding himself inclined to laugh over the recollection. He had also an uneasy feeling that he ought to scold Ahn for apologizing so well; but then, that was ridiculous! He compromised with his conscience by saying severely:  
  
"I hope you'll try to control your temper now, Ahn. There shouldn't be need to make any more such apologies. "  
  
"That wouldn't be so hard if people wouldn't tease me about my looks," said Ahn with a sigh. "I don't get angry about many things; but I'm SO tired of being teased about my hair and it just makes me boil right over. Do you suppose my hair will really be a handsome black when I grow up?"  
  
"You shouldn't think so much about your looks, Ahn. You don't want to grow up to be vain."  
  
"How can I be vain when I know I'm homely?" protested Ahn. "I love pretty things; and I hate to look in the glass and see something that isn't pretty. It makes me feel so sad...just as I feel when I look at any ugly thing. I pity it because it isn't beautiful."  
  
"Beauty fades, but latinum shines forever," Quark remarked.  
  
"I've had that said to me before, but I have my doubts about it," remarked skeptical Ahn, licking the last of her jumja stick. "Oh, this is the best. I'm glad Commander Kira let me have this. I have no hard feelings against her now. It's a lovely feeling to apologize and be forgiven, isn't it? And I'm glad she let me look at the stars, they're so bright today. If you could live on a star, which one would you pick? I'd be sure to pick a lovely clear big one."  
  
"Ahn, you'd better finish your jumja stick." said Quark, thoroughly worn out trying to follow the gyrations of Ahn's thoughts.  
  
Ahn said no more until they entered the Habitat Ring. As they walked down the dimly lit corridor, a welcoming light illuminated the room at the very end. Ahn suddenly came close.  
  
"You know, it's good to go home and know that it's home," she said. "I love Deep Space Nine already, and I've never loved any place before. No place ever seemed like home. Mr. Quark, I'm so happy, and I am starting to feel that I truly belong."   
  
- - - - -   
  
**EPISODE X  
Ahn's Impression of School**  
  
"Well, how do you like them?"  
  
Ahn was standing in her bedroom, looking solemnly down at a set of miniature soldiers spread out neatly on the bed. One was a stout Ferengi; two were Nausicans holding large rifles; and the last was a Packled holding a burlap sack.  
  
They were Marauder Moe and Associates, Quark's faithful childhood companions. He had been saving them all these years, and dreaming of the day he'd sell them on Ferenginar's collectibles market.  
  
"I'll imagine that I like them," said Ahn soberly.  
  
"I don't want you to imagine it," Quark insisted. "They're each worth five bars of latinum!"  
  
"If you say so."  
  
"Then why don't you like them?"  
  
"They're...they're not...very interesting toys," said Ahn reluctantly.  
  
"Toys!" Quark sniffed. "These are ACTION FIGURES! They were the best friends a boy could ever have. We had so many adventures together...fighting the death droids of Luria, escaping the Klingon prison moon, stealing the Hope Diamond. I thought you'd appreciate them with your imagination. You should be grateful to get anything after being in that institution."  
  
"Oh, I AM grateful," protested Ahn. "But I'd be ever so much gratefuller if...if I could have a DOLL instead. In my whole life I never had one. Even when I was at Rivan, I had to share toys with all the other orphans. Most of the time, I waited so long for my turn that I just fell asleep. Oh, it would give me such satisfaction to finally have something of my own."  
  
"Well, you'll have to do without your satisfaction. I don't see any value in dolls. I think they're ridiculous-looking things. I prefer good old action figures."  
  
"But I'd rather have 'ridiculous-looking' like all the other children than 'good old' all by myself," persisted Ahn mournfully.  
  
"I'm not surprised! said Quark, clearly offended. "If you can't appreciate my friends just put them back on the shelf. We've got work to do. I've got to get you ready for school. I've signed you up already, and you're due there tomorrow at 09 00 hours exactly.  
  
Ahn put the "action figures" on a nearby shelf, then fell back on the bed.  
  
"If I cannot have a doll," Ahn said brightly, "Then perhaps I could have a new dress for school. I'm picturing a red one with bright satin trim. I'd pray for one, but I don't much expect it on that account. I don't suppose the Divine Treasurer or the Prophets for that matter would have time to bother about a little girl's dress. I knew I'd just have to depend on Mr. Quark for it. If all else fails, I suppose I could imagine that my green one here is red with satin trim and long flared sleeves."  
  
The next morning, a sick ear-ache prevented Quark from going to the schoolroom with Ahn.  
  
"You'll have to go by yourself." Quark said, holding his lobes. "Just promise me that you'll behave. Pay attention to the teacher and don't say anything silly. I expect you to tell me everything when you come home."  
  
Ahn started off irreproachable, arrayed in her green dress, which, while decent as regards to length and certainly not open to the charge of skimpiness, contrived to emphasize every corner and angle of her thin figure. Her hair hung in one long braid down the center of her back, bound by a matching ribbon. Its appearance had likewise much disappointed Ahn, who had permitted herself secret visions of dark and flowing locks. The latter was supplied before she reached the schoolroom. While on the turbolift, the child had promptly removed her bow and shook her tresses free. Whatever other people might have thought of the result it satisfied Ahn, and she tripped happily onward, holding up her ruddy unadorned head most proudly.  
  
As she crossed the Promenade, few could help but glance with curious eyes at this stranger in their midst, with her uncommon features and extraordinary hair. Many of them had already heard the stories about her. Commander Kira said she had an awful temper; and Morn said she talked all the time to herself or to the stars and the space rocks like a crazy person. They looked at her and whispered and gave each other knowing glances.  
  
The station schoolroom, which had been closed for several years, was re-opened shortly after the end of the Dominion war. It was modest in size, with an old-fashioned chalkboard and a computer console that stretched across the front wall. There were thirty neatly arranged desks, each covered with the hieroglyphics of various Alpha Quadrant species. The scholars ranged in age from five to eighteen, and the teacher was a blond Bajoran fresh out of university.  
  
Quark had sent Ahn off to school on that first day with many secret misgivings. Ahn was such an odd girl. How would she get along with the other children? And how in the universe would she ever manage to hold her tongue during school hours?  
  
Things went better than Quark presumed, however. Ahn came home later that afternoon in high spirits.  
  
"I think I'm going to like school," she announced. "I don't think much of the teacher, through. Mr. Kretak's always smiling and making eyes at N'arelta. She's Andorian, and she's studying for the entrance examination into Starfleet Academy next year. Becky Peters says the teacher is just NUTS about her. She's got a beautiful pale green complexion and short wispy white hair. She sits at the desk in the rear and he sits there, too, most of the time- to explain her lessons, he says. But Rislan Dana says he saw him writing something on her datapadd and when N'arelta read it, her antennae shot straight up and she giggled; and Dana says he doesn't believe it had anything to do with school."  
  
"Kor Ahn, don't let me hear you talking about your teacher in that way again," said Quark sharply.   
  
"You don't go to school to gossip on the teacher. Besides, Mr. Kretak is an upstanding citizen. He's a VERY good customer who ALWAYS pays his tab on time. He could teach YOU something, you know. I want you to understand right off that you are not to come home telling tales about him. That is something I won't encourage. Now, I hope you behaved yourself today."

"Indeed I did, Mr. Quark." said Ahn comfortably. "It wasn't so hard as you might imagine, either. I sit at the last desk in the third row. My seat is right by the door where I can look out on the Pathway to Heaven. There are a lot of nice children at the school and we had great fun playing at lunchtime. It's so nice to have other children to play with. As for my learning, I'm SO far behind. They're all learning calculus and I'm still stuck in basic algebra with the little children. I feel that it's kind of a disgrace. But there's not one of them that has such an imagination as I have and I soon found that out. We had math and reading and astronomy and intergalactic history today. Mr. Kretak said my knowledge of the Terran system was disgraceful and he held up my padd so that everybody could see it, all marked with big red X's. I felt so mortified, he might have been politer to a stranger, I think. Then at lunch Becky gave me an apple and B'Toreth invited me to his quarters to see his father's bat'leth. After school Rislan Dana let me wear her beaded necklace all the way home. Can I have some beads to make a necklace for myself? And oh, Mr. Quark, William Toliver told me that B' Toreth told him that he heard N'arelta tell Becky Peters that I had such pretty eyes. That is the first compliment I have ever had in my life and you can't imagine what a strange feeling it gave me. Mr. Quark, do I really have pretty eyes? I know you'll tell me the truth."  
  
"Your eyes are well enough," said Quark shortly. Secretly he thought Ahn's eyes were a remarkable shade of blue, but he had no intention of telling her so.  
  
That was three weeks ago and all had gone smoothly so far. And now, this quiet morning, Kor Ahn strolled into the schoolroom, feeling most content. She was promptly greeted by Becky Peters.  
  
"I guess Tared Evron will be in school today," she said, taking the seat next to her. "He's been visiting his cousins on Bajor all summer and he only came home yesterday. He's Bajoran and he's VERY cute. He teases the girls something terrible, though. He just torments our lives out." Becky's voice indicated that she rather liked having her life tormented out.  
  
"Evron's still working through algebra just like you. He used to be the top student in class, but three years ago, his grandmother took sick and he had to go with his mother back to Bajor. He barely went to school during that time. You wouldn't know it just by looking at him though. He still likes to run the show."  
  
While Mr. Kretak was helping N'arelta with her chemistry, Becky leaned over and whispered:

"That's him sitting at the end of the second row. Just look at him and see if you don't think he's something."  
  
Ahn looked accordingly. She had a good chance to do so, for the said Tared Evron was absorbed in stealthily pinning the long yellow braid of Rislan Dana, who sat in front of him, to the back of her seat. He was a tall boy, with wavy dark hair, deep brown skin, and a mouth twisted into a teasing smile. Presently, the girl started up towards the blackboard; she fell back into her seat with a little shriek, believing that her hair was pulled out by the roots. Everyone began to snicker and point so that she began to cry. Evron had whisked the pin out of sight and was studying his history with the soberest face in the world; but when the commotion subsided he looked back at Ahn and winked with inexpressible drollery.  
  
"I think your Tared Evron is something all right," Ahn thought, staring back with disdain. But it was not until the afternoon that things really began to happen.  
  
Mr. Kretak was back in the corner explaining a physics problem to N'arelta and the rest of the scholars were doing pretty much as they pleased chewing gum, whispering, passing notes and playing games on their data padds. Evron was trying to make Ahn look at him and failing utterly, because the girl was completely oblivious not only to his existence, but of every other occurrence in the room. With her chin propped on her hands and her eyes fixed on the glimpse of the Pathway to Heaven that the door afforded, she was far away in a gorgeous dreamland hearing and seeing nothing but her own wonderful visions.  
  
Tared Evron wasn't used to putting himself out and meeting with failure. She SHOULD look at him, that skinny Cardassian girl with the big eyes that weren't like the eyes of any other girl on the station.  
  
Finally, Evron went over to Ahn's desk. Picking up the end of one of Ahn's long braids, he held it out at arm's length and said in a piercing whisper:  
  
"Little red spoon-head!"  
  
Ahn looked at him with a vengeance! Then she sprang to her feet, her bright fantasy having crumbled into ruin. She flashed an indignant glance at the boy from eyes whose angry sparkle was swiftly quenched in equally angry tears.  
  
"You mean, hateful boy!" she exclaimed passionately. "How dare you!"  
  
And then - THWACK!!! Ahn brought her data padd down on the Bajoran's head and cracked it - padd not head - clear across.  
  
The children of Deep Space Nine always enjoyed a scene. This was an especially enjoyable one. They all gasped in horrified delight. Becky's mouth formed a silent "oh my gosh." Rislan Dana, who was inclined to be hysterical, began to cry. William Toliver nearly choked on his gum as he stared in total amazement at the tableau.  
  
Mr. Kretak marched down the aisle and laid his hand heavily on Ahn's shoulder.  
  
"Kor Ahn, what is this?" he said angrily. Ahn said nothing. It was asking too much of her soul to expect her to tell before the whole school that she had been called a "little red spoonhead."  
  
It was Evron who spoke up.  
  
"It was my fault Mr. Kretak. I teased her."  
  
Mr. Kretak did not hear.  
  
"It is a sorry thing to see a student of mine displaying such nasty behavior," he said in a solemn tone, as if the mere fact of being a pupil of his ought to root out all evil passions from the hearts of small imperfect mortals. "Ahn, go and stand in the corner near the blackboard for the rest of the day."  
  
Ahn would have infinitely preferred a whipping to this punishment under which her sensitive spirit quivered as from a whiplash. With a sunken, cold face she obeyed. Mr. Kretak took a piece of chalk and wrote on the chalk-board above her head.  
  
"Kor Ahnn has a very bad temper. She must learn to control it," and then read it out loud so that even the primary students, who couldn't read well yet, could understand. Ahn stood there the rest of the afternoon with those words above her. She did not cry or hang her head. Anger was still too hot in her heart for that and it sustained her amid all her agony of humiliation. With resentful eyes and passion-red cheeks she confronted alike Becky's sympathetic gaze and William Toliver's dazed expression and B'Toreth's stifled grins. As for Tared Evron, she would not even look at him. She would NEVER look at him again! She would never speak to him!  
  
When school was dismissed Ahn marched out with her red head held high. Evron tried to get her attention.  
  
"I'm very sorry I made fun of you, Ahn," he whispered repentantly. "Honest I am. You're not still angry with me now, huh?"  
  
Ahn brushed him off, without look or sign of hearing.  
  
"Oh how could you, Ahn?" breathed Becky as they entered the turbolift. The human's tone was reproachful, with a hint of admiration. Becky felt that she could NOT have resisted Evron's plea.  
  
"I shall never forgive that boy," said Ahn firmly. "And Mr. Kretak spelled my name with two n's, too. The memory has been branded onto my soul."  
  
Becky hadn't the least idea what the Cardassian meant but she understood it was something terrible.  
  
"You mustn't mind Evron making fun of your hair," she said soothingly. "Why, he makes fun of all the girls. He laughs at my freckles. He's called me 'spotty' a dozen times; and I never heard him apologize for anything before, either."  
  
"There's a great deal of difference between being called spotty and being called a little red spoon-head," said Ahn with dignity. "That boy truly hurt my feelings."  
  
It is possible the matter might have blown over if nothing else had happened. But when things begin to happen they are bound to keep on happening.  
  
The following day, Mr. Kretak cheerfully announced that would be spending the mid-day hour in conference with the Bajoran Minister of Education. Before leaving, he ordered everyone to stay inside and to quietly work on their lessons. Anyone caught doing otherwise would be severely punished.  
  
Ten minutes after leaving, all of the older children and a few of the younger ones ventured across the way to Zimmerman's, a Terran restaurant specializing in hot dogs, rock music, and other inter-galactic delights. The young scholars intended to stay only long enough to get some snacks. But chocolate fudge is seductive, and potato chips most gratifying; they picked and loitered and strayed; the first thing that recalled them to a sense of the flight of time was little Ayla Krel calling from across the way.  
  
The girls who were closest to the door started first and managed to reach the schoolroom in time but without a second to spare. The boys, who were seated in the rear, were later by a hair; and Ahn, who had not been eating at all but was standing near a jukebox, playing records and singing softly to herself, with a hat made from the paper menu on her head, was latest of all. Ahn could run with warp speed, however; and run she did with the impish result that she overtook the boys at the door and was swept into the schoolroom among them just as Mr. Kretak entered from the opposite end.  
  
Mr. Kretak's mood significantly dimmed; he didn't want the bother of punishing the entire class; but it was necessary to do something to save face, so he looked about for a scapegoat and found it in Ahn, who had dropped into her seat, gasping for breath, with the forgotten paper hat hanging askew over one ear and giving her a particularly rakish and disheveled appearance.  
  
"Kor Ahn, since you seem to be so fond of chasing the boys we shall indulge your taste for it this afternoon," he said sarcastically. "Take that hat out of your hair and sit in the desk next to Tared Evron." The other boys snickered. Becky, turning pale with pity, plucked the hat from Ahn's hair and squeezed her hand. Ahn stared at the teacher as if turned to stone.  
  
"Did you hear what I said?" queried Mr. Kretak sternly.  
  
"Yes, sir," said Ahn slowly "but I didn't suppose you really meant it."  
  
"I assure you I did" he replied with the sarcastic inflection which all the children, and Ahn especially, hated. It flicked on the raw. "Obey me at once."  
  
For a moment Ahn looked as if she meant to disobey. Then, realizing that there was no help for it, she rose haughtily, came forward, sat down beside Tared Evron, and buried her face in her arms on the desk. Ayla Krel, who got a glimpse of it as it went down, told the others going home from school that she'd never seen anything like it...it was "so very, very gray."  
  
To Ahn, this was the end of all things. It was bad enough to be singled out for punishment from among a dozen equally guilty ones; it was worse still to be sent to sit with a boy, but that boy should be Tared Evron was heaping insult on injury to a degree utterly unbearable. Ahn felt that she could not bear it and it would be of no use to try. Her whole being seethed with shame and anger and humiliation.  
  
At first the other scholars looked and whispered and giggled and nudged. But Ahn never lifted her head, and Evron continued to work his fractions as if his whole soul was absorbed in them and them only. Soon enough, everyone returned to their own tasks and the incident was forgotten. When Mr. Kretak began the history lesson, Ahn should have looked up, but she did not move, and Mr. Kretak, who was absorbed in the golden age of the Iconian empire, never missed her. Once, when nobody was looking, Evron took from his desk a little piece of gold-wrapped jumja candy and slipped it under the curve of Ahn's arm. Whereupon Ahn arose, took the candy between the tips of her fingers, dropped it on the floor, ground it to powder beneath her heel, and resumed her position without deigning to bestow a glance on the pathetic-looking boy. When the school day ended, Ahn marched to her desk, took out her belongings, and tucked them under her arm.  
  
"What are you taking all those things home for, Ahn?" Becky wanted to know, as soon as they were on the turbolift. She had not dared to ask the question before.  
  
"I am not coming back to school any more," said Ahn. Becky gasped and stared to see if she meant it.  
  
"Will your father let you stay home?" she asked.  
  
"I don't see why Mr. Quark wouldn't agree," said Ahn. "And at any rate, I'll NEVER EVER show my face in that room again."  
  
"Oh, Ahn! think of all the fun you'll miss," mourned Becky. "We are going to make banners for the Harvest Festival; and we'll be playing baseball in the holosuites and you've never played ball, Ahn. It's tremendously exciting. Then, next month, we're going to have a talent contest. The best student will win a medal. You're sure to win, Ahn. I know you are so good at imagining."  
  
Nothing moved Ahn in the least. Her mind was made up. She would not go to school again; she told Quark when she got home.  
  
"Out of the question!" said Quark.  
  
"Why?" said Ahn, gazing at Quark with solemn, reproachful eyes. "Don't you understand, I've been insulted."  
  
"That's not an excuse. You'll go to school tomorrow as usual. Do you know what will happen to me if you don't? The authorities will swoop down on me like buzzards. They'll charge me with child neglect. They'll fine me half a year's profits."  
  
"Perhaps I can talk to them." Ahn insisted. "If they knew the whole story, they would not punish you. I promise to learn my lessons at home and I'll be as good as I can be and hold my tongue all the time if it's possible at all. But I will not go back to school, and that is a fact."  
  
Quark saw something remarkably like unyielding stubbornness looking out of Ahn's small face. He understood that he would have a great deal of trouble in overcoming it; and in his wisdom, he chose to say nothing more just then. "Maybe I can talk to Nog about it this evening," he thought.

"There's no use reasoning with that girl now. She's just too worked up. From what I can make out, Mr. Kretak has been singling her out, but I'll never admit it to her. I'll see what Nog has to say. He's been through Federation school. I'm sure he's heard the whole story, too, by this time."  
  
Quark found his nephew working on a power coupling near cargo bay one.  
  
"I suppose you know what I've come about," he said, a little shamefacedly. Nog nodded.  
  
"About Ahn's scene at school, I suppose," he said. "Rislan Dana was on her way home from school and she told me about it."  
  
"I don't know what to do with her," said Quark. "She looked me in the eye and told me she won't go back to school. I've never seen a child like her. I've been expecting trouble ever since she started going to that Federation school. I knew things were too good to be true. She's so high-strung. What do you think I should do?"  
  
"Well, since you've asked my advice, Uncle," said Nog amiably - and he dearly loved to be asked for advice - "I'd just humor her a little at first. I do think that Mr. Kretak was right to punish her for her temper the other day. But today it was different. The others who were late should have been punished as well as Ahn. And I don't believe in publicly humiliating people for punishment. Rislan Dana told me that she really felt sorry for Ahn, and that most of the other students did too. Ahn seems to be kind of popular among them. Despite what happened, it is good to see she has friends."  
  
"Then you really think I'd better let her stay home," said Quark in amazement.  
  
"For the moment. After a week of sitting all by herself, she'll be begging to go back. If you force her, who knows what she'll do next. It's bound to cause more trouble than ever. The less fuss made the better. Anyway, I don't think she'll miss much. Mr. Kretak isn't any good at all as a teacher. He talks AT the children instead of TO them. He'd never have been hired in the first place if his mother wasn't friends with the Minister of Education. If only we could have a teacher like Mrs. O'Brien again!"  
  
Quark took his nephew's advice and not another word was said to Ahn about going back to school. She learned her lessons at home, cleaned tables at the bar, and played with her former classmates after dinner; but when she met Tared Evron on the turbolift or encountered him in the corridors of the Habitat Ring she passed him by with an icy contempt that was no whit thawed by his evident desire to appease her. Even Becky's efforts as a peacemaker were of no avail. Ahn had evidently made up her mind to hate the boy until the end of time.


	3. Ahn of Deep Space Nine Episodes 11 to 14

**Ahn of Deep Space Nine**  
  
A fan-novel, based on _Anne of Green Gables_ by Lucy Maud Montgomery and _STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE.  
  
DISCLAIMER:_ This was written solely for the sake of fun. No money is being made here, and no copyright infringement is intended. Takes place after "What You Leave Behind," the final episode of _Deep Space Nine._  
  
- - - - -  
  
**EPISODE XI  
Becky's Visit Ends In Disaster **  
  
One morning, Ahn stood quietly at the entrance to the bar, watching customers come and go. She couldn't believe that so many different people could fit harmoniously in one place. In one corner, a Bolian couple gasped excitedly as a Dabo girl handed them a stack of latinum. At the opposite end, Nausican youths snarled and laughed loudly. In the center, an elderly Bajoran savored a plate of fried chicken. And in the rear, Ensign Xarvik pulled brown goo from a clogged replicator.  
  
Ahn reveled in the diversity about her.  
  
"Oh, Mr. Quark," she exclaimed, "I'm so glad I live in a universe where there are so many different people. It would be terrible if every one were green, or, tall, or had big ears, wouldn't it? Look at those Nausicans. Don't they give you a thrill? Perhaps I could go and ask them some questions."  
  
"Now is NOT the time to ask questions," said Quark, shoving a rag in her hand. "And besides, Nausicans are a thrill I could do without."  
  
Without another word, Ahn set about her appointed task. She moved about the rest of the morning in dejected silence, until Quark finally motioned for her to return.  
  
"Look, I don't think there's going to be much business today. No sense in having to feed another worker. Take off the rest of the day, go do as you like. Better yet, why don't you invite one of your little friends for a visit?"  
  
"Oh, Mr. Quark!" Ahn clasped her hands. "How kind and generous of you! You ARE able to imagine things after all or else you'd never have understood how I've longed for that very thing. It will seem so nice and grown-uppish. Oh, please, can I use your latinum plates?"

"Absolutely not! Those are for the Nagus only! You'll use replicated ones like we always do. But I will let you have some Andorian sponge cake. It's time they were being used anyhow - they're a couple of years old. Oh, and there's a bottle of cherry cola that was left over from Ensign Jeffries' birthday party last week. They're both on the bottom shelf behind the dining room table."  
  
"I can just imagine myself sitting down at the head of the table," said Ahn, shutting her eyes ecstatically. "I've laid out the cakes on a tray in a neat little circle and the cherry cola is in a fancy glass pitcher, just off to the side. And for decoration, there is a bouquet of wild flowers right in the center...it's a wonderful feeling just to think of it..."  
  
An hour later, Becky Peters arrived at Ahn's quarters, dressed in an outfit usually reserved for her Sunday church service. At other times she was wont to announce herself by yelling; but now she primly rang the door chime. And when Ahn primly opened it, both little girls shook hands as gravely as if they had never met before. This unnatural solemnity lasted until after Becky had been taken to the dining table and then had sat for ten minutes in the place of honor, toes in position.  
  
Between bites of cake, Becky had much to tell Ahn of what went on in school. She had to sit next to William Toliver and she hated it; William chewed gum all the time and it just made her blood run cold; B'toreth "said something" in Klingon and Mr. Kretak grabbed him by the arm and tossed him out of the room and his mother came to the school and challenged Mr. Kretak to a duel; and Rislan Dana had a new red crystal earring and the airs she put on about it were perfectly sickening; and Vorel broke his leg when Shane Wilson dared him to jump from the top of the stairs; and everybody missed Ahn so and wished she's come back to school again; and Tared Evron -  
  
But Ahn didn't want to hear about Tared Evron. She jumped up hurriedly and excused herself to retrieve the cherry cola.  
  
Ahn looked on the bottom shelf but there was no bottle of cherry cola there. The search revealed it way back on the top shelf. Ahn put it on a tray and set it on the table with some tall glasses.  
  
"Help yourself, Becky," she said politely. "I don't believe I'll have any just now. I'm too excited to eat."  
  
Becky poured herself a glass, looked at its sparkling brown hue, and then sipped it daintily.  
  
"This is very good, Ahn," she said. "I didn't know cherry cola could be so nice."  
  
"I'm real glad you like it. Drink as much as you want. I'm going to bring out some more cake. There are so many responsibilities on a person's mind when they have a visitor, isn't there?"

When Ahn came back from the kitchen Becky was drinking her second glass of cola; and, being entreated thereto by Ahn, she offered no particular objection to the drinking of a third. The glasses were generous ones and the cola was certainly very nice.  
  
"This is the nicest thing I ever drank," said Becky. "It's much better than drinking lemonade, although they say my mom's is the best this side of the Alpha Quadrant. This just dances on my tongue."  
  
"I should think your mother's lemonade would be just as nice," said Ahn loyally. "I've also heard she's a very good cook. Mrs. Sisko is trying to teach me to cook but I assure you, Becky, it is uphill work. There's so little scope for imagination in cooking. You just have to go by the rules. The last time I made a cake I forgot to put the flour in. I was thinking the loveliest story about you and me, Becky. I thought you were lost on a desolate moon and everybody had given up the search, but I stole a shuttle and rescued you; but I was gravely injured and died and I was buried on Bajor on a grassy hill and you planted a rosebush by my grave and watered it with your tears; and you never, never forgot the friend of your youth who sacrificed her life for you. Oh, it was such a pathetic tale, Becky. The tears just rained down over my cheeks while I mixed the cake. But I forgot the flour and the cake was a dismal failure. Flour is so essential to cakes, you know."   
  
"Mrs. Sisko was very cross and so was Mr. Quark. It's no wonder, I seem to be a great trial to everyone. Why last week, we had some fresh Vulcan pastries for breakfast and there were a dozen left over. Mr. Quark said there was enough for the next day and he told me to set them on the shelf and to cover them. I meant to cover it just as much as could be, Becky, but when I was carrying them away I was imagining I was a monk guarding sacred tablets, and I forgot what he said. I thought of it again the next morning and ran to the dining room. Becky, you can't imagine my horror at finding four pastries gone and a vole dead in the middle of the plate. I lifted it out and threw it in the trash receptacle. Mr. Quark was still asleep and I fully intended to tell him; but when he woke I was imagining that I was a light spirit going through the woods turning the trees red and yellow, whichever they wanted to be, so I never thought about the pastries again and I went on, business as usual. Well, Dr. Bashir, Morn, and Counselor Dax came by one evening to play cards. They are very nice people, except for the fact that Morn is always talking. When I happened to pass by the dining room, I saw that refreshments were laid out and everybody was standing around the table. I tried to be as polite and dignified as I could be, for I wanted everyone to think I was a ladylike little girl even if I wasn't pretty. Everything went right until I saw the pastries at the edge of the tray. Becky, that was a terrible moment. I remembered everything and I just stood up in my place and shrieked out, "You can't have those! A vole ate himself dead on them! I forgot to tell you before."   
  
"Oh, Becky, I shall never forget that awful moment if I live to be a hundred and fifty. Morn and Dr. Bashir and Conselor Dax just LOOKED at me and I thought I would sink through the floor with mortification. Then, Mr. Quark's ears turned red as fire but he never said a word...then. He just carried that tray out and replicated up some muffins. He even offered me one, but my throat was so tight that I couldn't swallow a thing. After everyone had left, Mr. Quark gave me a dreadful scolding. Why, Becky, is something wrong?"  
  
Becky had stood up very unsteadily; then she sat down again, putting her hands to her head.

"I'm...I'm awfully sick," she said, a little thickly. "I...I...must go right home."  
  
"Oh, you mustn't dream of going so soon," cried Ahn in distress. "You've told me all about yourself and I've haven't really said anything in return."  
  
"I must go home," repeated Becky, stupidly but determinedly.  
  
"Let me get you something to take home," implored Ahn. "Let me give you some cake and some of the cherry cola. Lie down on the sofa for a little while and you'll feel better. Where do you feel bad?"  
  
"I MUST go home," said Becky, and that was all she would say. In vain Ahn pleaded.  
  
"I never heard of company going home with nothing," she mourned. "Oh, Becky, do you suppose that it's possible you've got the fever? If so, I'll go and nurse you, you can depend on that. I'll never forsake you. But I do wish you'd stay another hour. Where do you feel bad?"  
  
"I'm awfully dizzy," said Becky.  
  
And indeed, she walked very dizzily. Ahn, with tears of disappointment in her eyes, took Becky to the turbolift. Then she wept all the way back to her quarters, where she sorrowfully put the remainder of the cherry cola back on the shelf and then got dinner ready for Quark, with all the zest gone out of the performance.  
  
The following afternoon, Quark sent Ahn out on an errand to the Klingon consulate. In a very short space of time she came flying back into their quarters with tears rolling down her cheeks. Onto the sofa she dashed and flung herself face downward in agony.  
  
"What's wrong now, Ahn?" asked Quark in doubt and dismay. "I hope you haven't gone and said something smart to one of the Klingon officers."  
  
No answer from Ahn save more tears and stormier sobs!  
  
"Kor Ahn, when I ask you a question I want to be answered. Sit up this very minute and tell me what you are crying about."  
  
Ahn sat up, tragedy personified.  
  
"On my way to the turbolift, I overheard Morn talking to Ensign Gery. He had spoken to Nurse Peters today and she was in an awful state," she wailed. "She says that I got Becky DRUNK yesterday. She says Becky had to be taken to the Infirmary and that she had never been more humiliated in her life. Nurse Peters says I must be a thoroughly bad, wicked little girl and she's never, never going to let Becky have anything to do with me again. Oh, Mr. Quark, my heart is broken."  
  
Quark stared in blank amazement.  
  
"Got Becky drunk!" he said when he found his voice. "Are you insane, girl? What in the universe did you give her?"  
  
"Not a thing but cherry cola," sobbed Ahn. "I didn't know that cherry cola could get people drunk...not even if they drank three big glasses as Becky did. Oh, it's just like the time I was in the house with that awful soldier! But I didn't mean to get her drunk."  
  
"Drunk my lobes!" said Quark, marching to the dining room. There on the shelf was a bottle which he at once recognized as one containing some Bajoran current wine for which he saved for a lady friend. And at the same time, Quark suddenly remembered that he had left the bottle of cherry cola at the bar.  
  
He went back to the living room with the wine bottle in his hand. His face was twitching in spite of himself.  
  
"Ahn, you certainly have a genius for getting into trouble. You went and gave Becky current wine instead of cherry cola. Didn't you know the difference yourself?"  
  
"I've never tasted it," said Ahn. "I thought it was cola. I meant to be so...so... hospitable. Becky got awfully sick and had to go home. Nurse Peters told Ensign Gery that she was simply dead drunk. She laughed silly-like when her mother asked her what was the matter and went to sleep and slept for hours. Her mother smelled her breath and knew she was drunk. Then Becky ended up in the Infirmary with a fierce headache. Nurse Peters is unforgiving. She will never believe that I didn't do it on purpose."  
  
"I should think she would do better punishing Becky for being so greedy as to drink three glasses of anything," said Quark shortly. "Why, three of those big glasses would have made her sick even if it had only been cola. Stop that crying now, looks like I'm more to blame for this than you are."  
  
"I must cry," said Ahn. "My heart is broken. The stars in their courses fight against me, Mr. Quark. Becky and I are parted forever. Oh, I never dreamed of this the day I first set foot on this station."  
  
"Don't be a fool. Nurse Peters will forgive you when she finds out you're not to blame. I suppose she thinks you've done it for a silly joke or something of that sort. You'd best go tell her how it was all a mistake."  
  
"My courage fails me at the thought of facing Becky's injured mother," sighed Ahn. "I wish you'd go for me instead. You're so much more persuasive. She'd listen to you more than she would me."  
  
"Well, I guess I will," said Quark, reflecting that it would probably be the wiser course. "Don't cry any more, Ahn. It'll be all right."  
  
Quark had changed his mind about it being all right by the time he got back from the Infirmary. Ahn was watching for his coming and flew down the corridor to meet him.  
  
"Oh, I know by your face that it's been no use," she said sorrowfully. "She won't forgive me."  
  
"Of all the unreasonable women I ever saw she's the worst. I told her it was all a mistake and you weren't to blame, but she just simply didn't believe me. And she really rubbed it in about the wine and what kind of an idiot would let their a child get their hands on it. I just told her plainly that Bajoran currant wine wasn't meant to be drunk three glasses at a time and that if a child I had to do with was so greedy I'd sober her up with a faceful of cold water."  
  
Quark stormed into their quarters, grievously disturbed, leaving a very much distracted little soul outside behind him. Presently Ahn turned around, then very determinedly and steadily made her way to the Infirmary. When Nurse Peters emerged from the supply room, she found a pale-lipped, eager-eyed suppliant before her.  
  
The woman's face hardened. Amanda Peters was a woman of strong prejudices and dislikes, and her anger was of the cold, sullen sort which is always hardest to overcome. To do her justice, she really believed Ahn had made Becky drunk out of sheer malice, and she was honestly anxious to preserve her little daughter from the contamination of further intimacy with such a child.  
  
"What do YOU want?" she said stiffly.  
  
Ahn clasped her hands.  
  
"Oh, ma'am, please forgive me. I did not mean to...to...inebriate your daughter. How could I? Just imagine if you were a poor little orphan girl and that a kind person had adopted and you had just one true friend in all the universe. Do you think you would harm her in any way? I thought it was only cherry cola. I was firmly convinced it was cherry cola. Oh, please don't say that you won't let Becky be my friend anymore. If you do you will take what little joy I have left in life."  
  
This speech which would have softened a Borg's heart in a instant, but it had no effect on Nurse Peters except to offend her even more. She was suspicious of Ahn's big words and dramatic gestures and imagined that the child was making fun of her. So she said, rather coldly:  
  
"I don't think you are a fit person for Becky to associate with. Now I think you'd better go on home."  
  
Ahn's lips quivered.  
  
"Won't you let me see Becky just once to say farewell?" she implored.  
  
"I'm afraid I can't allow that," said Nurse Peters, turning and walking away.   
  
Ahn went back to her quarters, resigned to fate.  
  
"My last hope is gone," she told Quark. "I went and saw Becky's mother myself and she treated me very insultingly. I do NOT think she is a woman of conscience. There is nothing more to do except to pray and I haven't much hope that that'll do much good because, Mr. Quark, I do not believe that the Prophets or the Divine Treasurer or anyone can do very much with a person like Nurse Peters."  
  
"Ahn, you shouldn't say such things" rebuked Quark, striving to overcome that unholy tendency to laughter which he was dismayed to find growing upon him. And indeed, when he told the whole story to Nog that night, he did laugh heartily over Ahn's tribulations.  
  
But when he slipped by her room before going to bed and found that Ahn had cried herself to sleep an unaccustomed softness crept into his face.  
  
"Poor little soul," he murmured, lifting a loose strand of hair from the child's tear-stained face. Then he bent down, gently patting the flushed cheek on the pillow.  
  
- - - - -   
  
**EPISODE XII  
A New Interest in Life **  
  
The next afternoon Ahn, while dusting a Dabo wheel, happened to glance out and see Becky standing outside beckoning mysteriously. In a flash, Ahn was out of the bar and flying towards her, astonishment and hope struggling in her expressive eyes. But the hope faded when she saw Becky's dejected countenance.  
  
"Your mother hasn't changed her mind?" she gasped.  
  
Becky shook her head mournfully.  
  
"No; and oh, Ahn, she says I'm never to have anything to do with you ever again. I've cried and cried and I told her it wasn't your fault, but it wasn't any use. It was an effort to get her to let me come down and say good-bye to you. She said I was only to stay ten minutes and she's timing me by the clock."  
  
"Ten minutes isn't very long to say an eternal farewell in," said Ahn tearfully. "Oh, Becky, will you promise faithfully never to forget me, your dear little Cardassian friend, no matter what?"  
  
"Indeed I will," sobbed Becky, "and I'll never have another bosom friend- I don't want to have. I couldn't love anybody as I love you."  
  
"Oh, Becky," cried Ahn, clasping her hands, "do you LOVE me?"  
  
"Why, of course I do. Didn't you know that?"  
  
"No." Ahn drew a long breath. "I thought you LIKED me of course but I never hoped you LOVED me. Why, Becky, I didn't think anybody could love me. Nobody ever has loved me since I can remember. Oh, this is wonderful! It's a ray of light which will shine forever through the darkness that has fallen on my life. Oh, just say it once again."  
  
"I love you devotedly, Ahn," said Becky stanchly, "and I always will, you may be sure of that."  
  
"And I will always love you, Becky," said Ahn, solemnly extending her hand. "In the years to come your memory will shine like a star over my lonely life. Becky, will you give me a lock of your hair to remember you by?"  
  
"Have you got anything to cut it with?" queried Becky, wiping away the tears which Ahn's affecting accents had caused to flow afresh, and returning to practicalities.  
  
"Yes. I've got this cutting tool here in my pocket," said Ahn. She solemnly clipped one of Becky's curls. "Farewell, my dear friend. From this moment on, we must be as strangers though living side by side. But my heart will be forever faithful."  
  
Ahn stood and watched Becky out of sight, mournfully waving her hand whenever she turned to look back. Then she returned to the bar, not a little consoled for the time being by this tragic parting.  
  
"It is all over," she informed Quark. "I will never have another friend. I'm worse off than ever before. Becky and I had such an affecting farewell. It will be sacred in my memory forever. I used the most pathetic language I could think of. Becky gave me a lock of her hair and I'm going to sew it up in a little bag and wear it across my heart all my life. Please see that it is buried with me, for I don't believe I'll live very long. Perhaps when she sees me lying cold and dead before her Nurse Peters may feel remorse for what she has done and will let Becky come to my funeral."  
  
"I don't think we need to worry about you dying of grief as long as you can talk, " said Quark unsympathetically.  
  
When the new week began, Ahn surprised Quark by coming from her room with her books beneath her arm and her lips primmed up into a line of determination.  
  
"I'm going back to school," she announced. "That is all there is left in life for me, now that my friend has been ruthlessly torn from me. In school I can look at her and muse over days gone by."  
  
"You'd better muse over those Rules of Acquisition," said Quark, concealing his delight at this recent development. "And I hope I don't hear anymore about you breaking data padds over people's heads. Behave yourself and do just what the teacher tells you."  
  
"I'll try to be a model pupil," agreed Ahn dolefully. "There won't be much fun in it, I expect. Mr. Kretak said William Toliver was a model pupil and there isn't a spark of imagination or life in him. He is just dull and nosy and never seems to have a good time. But I feel so depressed that perhaps it will come easy to me now. I'm taking the long way, so I don't have to pass Becky's quarters. I couldn't bear to go by there now. I would weep bitter tears if I did."  
  
Ahn was welcomed back to school with open arms. Her imagination had been sorely missed in games, her voice in the singing and her dramatic ability in recitation. Alice Pickett offered her part of her lunch; Judy MacPherson let her play with her kickball; and little Ayla Krel wrote carefully on a piece of pale pink paper the following Bajoran effusion:

  
When twilight drops her curtain down   
And pins it with a star   
Remember that you have a friend   
Though she may wander far.

  
"It's so nice to be appreciated," said Ahn rapturously to Quark that night.  
  
The girls were not the only scholars who "appreciated" her. When Ahn went to her seat after lunch hour - she had been told by Mr. Kretak to sit with the model William Toliver - she found on her desk a bowl of fresh Aldebaran greenberries. Ahn grabbed a handful and was ready to take a bite when she remembered that the only place on the station where one could get them was the small market run by the Tarod family on the first level of the Promenade. Ahn dropped the berries as if it were plasma and wiped her fingers on the sides of her dress. The berries lay untouched on her desk until the next morning, when B'Toreth, whose turn it was to sweep the school and clean the erasers, claimed them for his own. Shane Wilson's gift, a stack of previously-read comic books, met with a more favorable reception. Ahn was graciously pleased to accept it and rewarded the donor with a smile which exalted that infatuated youth straightway into the seventh heaven of delight and caused him to make so many errors in his spelling that Mr. Kretak kept him after school to rewrite it.  
  
The only thing that dampened Ahn's triumph was the marked absence of any tribute or recognition from Becky Peters, who sat the whole day near Rislan Dana.  
  
"Becky might just have smiled at me once, I think," she mourned to Quark that night. But the next morning a note most fearfully and wonderfully twisted and folded, and a small parcel were passed across to Ahn.  
  
Dear Ahn, (ran the former)  
  
Mother says I'm not to play with you or talk to you even in school. It isn't my fault and don't be angry at me, because I love you as much as ever. I have no one now to tell my secrets to and I don't like Rislan Dana one bit. I made you a beaded bracelet. They are very fashionable now and only three girls in the school know how to make them. When you look at it remember that I am your true friend.  
  
- Becky Peters  
  
Ahn read the note, put the bracelet on, and wrote a prompt reply back to the other side of the school.   
  
My true friend Becky:  
  
Of course I am not angry with you becauze you have to obey your mother. Maybee we can learn to talk telepathically. I shall kep your lovely present forever. I'm sure you can learn something from children like Rislan Dana and William Toliver. They speek well and sit perfectly straight- although neither have much imagination. Pleze excuse any mistakes you see, since my spelling isn't very good yet, although much improoved.   
  
Yourz until death us do part,   
  
Kor Ahn   
  
P.S. I shal sleep with your letter under my pilow tonight.  
  
Quark pessimistically expected more trouble since Ahn had returned to school. But none developed. Perhaps Ahn caught something of the "model" spirit from William Toliver; at least she got on very well with Mr. Kretak thenceforth. She flung herself into her studies heart and soul, determined not to be outdone in any class. A rivalry even developed between she and Tared Evron. He too was determined to make up for time lost. This rivalry soon became apparent; it was entirely good natured on Evron's side; but the same thing cannot be said of Ahn, who had certainly an unpraiseworthy tenacity for holding grudges. She was as intense in her hatreds as in her loves. She would not stoop to admit that she meant to rival Evron in schoolwork, because that would have been to acknowledge his existence which Ahn persistently ignored; but the rivalry was there and honors fluctuated between them. When Evron won the class spelling contest, Ahn studied nights until she beat him. Not long after, Ahn did all her algebra correctly and was added to the honor list. Then Evron, having wrestled wildly with x's and y's, joined her the week after that. One awful day there was a tie and they had to share a prize. It was almost as bad as a wanted poster and Ahn's mortification was as evident as Evron's satisfaction.  
  
When the written examinations at the end of each month were held the suspense was terrible. The first month Evron came out three points ahead. The second Ahn beat him by five. But her triumph was marred by the fact that Evron congratulated her heartily before the whole school. It would have been ever so much sweeter to her if he had felt the sting of his defeat.  
  
Mr. Kretak might not be a very good teacher; but a pupil so inflexibly determined on learning as Ahn was could hardly escape making progress under any kind of teacher. By the end of the term Ahn and Evron were both promoted to the fifth level and allowed to begin studying the elements of "the branches"- by which calculus, chemistry, and physics were meant. In chemistry Ahn met with a Wolf 359.  
  
"It's some awful stuff, Mr.Quark," she groaned. "I'm sure I'll never be able to make heads or tails of it. There is no scope for imagination in it at all. Mr. Kretak says I'm the worst dunce he ever saw at it. And Evr- I mean some of the others are so smart at it. It is extremely mortifying. Even Becky gets along better than I do. But I don't mind being beaten by Becky. Even although we meet as strangers now I still love her with an INEXTINGUISHABLE love. It makes me very sad at times to think about her. But really, Mr. Quark, one can't stay sad very long in such an interesting universe, can one?"  
  
- - - - -   
  
**EPISODE XIII  
Ahn to the Rescue**  
  
ALL things great are wound up with all things little. At first glance it might not seem that the decision of a certain Bajoran Ambassador to include Deep Space Nine in a political tour could have much or anything to do with the fortunes of the little Cardassian named Kor Ahn. But it had.  
  
It was early afternoon when the Ambassador arrived on the Promenade to address not only her loyal supporters, but also those non-supporters who had chosen to be present. Since most of the denizens of the station were people on the Ambassador's side of politics, the crowd was stifling.   
  
Commander Kira had gone too. She was red-hot on politics and couldn't have believed that a rally could be carried through without her, although she was on the opposite side of her politics. So she went to the Promenade and took Dr. Bashir - he would be useful in case things took a nasty turn. Quark had a sneaking interest in politics himself, and as he thought it might be his only chance to see this Ambassador, he promptly took it, leaving Ahn and Nog to tend the bar until his return later in the day.  
  
Hence, while Commander Kira, Quark, and Dr. Bashir were enjoying themselves hugely at the mass meeting, Ahn and Nog had the bar all to themselves. The Dabo girls were laughing and talking amongst themselves, while Morn was slumped over, peacefully sleeping at the counter. Nog was in the rear, standing before an open access panel and Ahn was at a corner table studying with grim determination, despite sundry wistful glances at a holosuite program tucked into her front dress pocket. The Packled who sold it to her said it was guaranteed to produce any number of thrills, or words to that effect, and Ahn's fingers tingled to reach for it. But that would mean a triumph for Evron Tared. Ahn shut her eyes and tried to imagine it wasn't there.  
  
"Cousin Nog, when you were in school, did you ever have to memorize the names of all the Bajoran Kais?"  
  
"Well, no," said Nog. As he spoke, his eyes remained fixed on the panel. Some of the station's internal sensors were on the blink, and until he isolated the problem they had to be taken off-line.  
  
"I wish you had," sighed Ahn, "because then you'd be able to sympathize with me. You can't sympathize properly if you've never studied it. It is casting a cloud over my whole life. I'm such a dunce at it"  
  
"Well now, I don't know about it," said Nog soothingly. "I think you'll be fine. Mr. Kretak told me last week on the turbolift that you were among the top of his class. 'Among the top' were his very words. Now I used to think he wasn't much of a teacher, but maybe I guess he's all right."  
  
Nog would have thought anyone who praised Ahn was "all right."  
  
"Well, I'd also do better with calculus if only he wouldn't change the letters," complained Ahn. "I learn an equation by heart and then he writes it on a test and puts different letters from what are in the book and I get all mixed up. I don't think a teacher should take such a mean advantage, do you? We're studying computers now and I've found out at last why they all talk in that lady's voice. It's a great comfort. I wonder how Mr. Quark and Commander Kira and Dr. Bashir are enjoying themselves. Dr. Bashir says Bajor is going to the dogs the way things are being run at the Capitol and that it's an awful warning to the people. He says if they'd allow the Federation to help more we would soon see a blessed change. What way do you vote, Nog?"  
  
"Liberal," said Nog promptly. To vote Liberal was fast becoming part of Nog's religion.  
  
"Then I'm a Liberal too," said Ahn decidedly. "I'm glad because Evr- because some of the children in school are Conservatives. I guess Mr. Kretak is a Conservative too because his mother is one, but that may change because N'arelta's father is a die-hard Liberal. B'Toreth says that when a man is courting he always has to agree with the girl's mother in religion and her father in politics. Is that true, Nog?"  
  
"Well now, I don't know," said Nog.  
  
"Did you ever go courting, Nog?"  
  
"Well now, a few times," admitted Nog reluctantly, "But it's never really worked out."  
  
Ahn reflected with her chin in her hands.  
  
"It must be rather interesting, don't you think, Nog? Rislan Dana says when she grows up she's going to have ever so many beaus on the string and have them all crazy about her; but I think that would be too exciting. I'd rather have just one in his right mind. But Rislan Dana knows a great deal about such matters because she has so many big sisters, and Mr. Quark says the Rislan girls have been married off faster than warp speed. Mr. Kretak goes to see N'arelta nearly every evening. He says it's to help her with her lessons but Mordel Krevik is studying for Starfleet Academy too, and I think he needs help a lot more than N'arelta because he's much stupider, but he never goes to help him in the evenings at all. There are a great many things in this universe that I can't understand very well, Nog."  
  
"Well now, I don't know as I seem to be able to comprehend a great deal myself," acknowledged Nog.  
  
"Well, I suppose I must finish up my lessons. I won't allow myself to be tempted by that holosuite program until I'm through. But it's a terrible temptation, cousin. Even when I close my eyes I can see it there just as plain. I could just cry myself sick over it. I can love something so much that it makes me cry. But I think I'll carry that little program to my quarters and lock it away and give you the key. And you must NOT give it to me until my lessons are done, not even if I implore you with both my wrists pressed together. It's all very well to say resist temptation, but it's ever so much easier to resist it if you can't get the key. And then shall I make some hasperat, Cousin? Wouldn't you like a hand-made meal ?"  
  
"Well maybe I would," said Nog, who really never ate the spicy Bajoran dish but knew of Ahn's weakness for it.  
  
Just as Ahn triumphantly poured the red sauce, in rushed Becky Peters, breathless and trembling. Ahn promptly let go of the plate in her surprise, letting it crash down on the counter.  
  
"Oh, Becky?" cried Ahn. "Has your mother relented at last?"  
  
"Oh, Ahn, come quick," implored Becky nervously. "I was watching Azran Sisko while his mother went to see the Ambassador. I was playing with him in their quarters and I turned my back for a second and he unlocked the door and now he's gone. My mother is on the Promenade - and so is his brother, Jake. Oh, Mrs. Sisko counted on me and I don't know what to do - and oh, Ahn, I'm so scared!"  
  
Ahn turned to Nog. "Can't the computer locate him?"  
  
He shook his head. "The sensors are still off-line. I'm going to get help. Both of you, stay here."  
  
With that, he dashed out the bar.  
  
"What if something's happened to him," sobbed Becky. "Azran's so little. He doesn't know the station like you and me. Oh, Ahn!"  
  
"Don't cry, Becky," said Ahn cheerily. "I know exactly what we can do. We can look for him too. You forget that I've been around lots of little children. When you've lived in an asylum you naturally get a lot of experience. They were always running off here and there. Come on now."  
  
The two girls ran through the Habitat Ring, hand in hand. They looked over and under, poked into corners, and called out child's name. Ahn, although sincerely sorry for Azran Sisko, was far from being insensible to the romance of the situation and to the sweetness of once more sharing that romance with a kindred spirit.  
  
"Where could he be?" Becky began to sob,. "What if he got kidnapped?"  
  
Ahn grabbed her friend by the shoulders. Though she thought it delightful to go skimming through all this mystery with a friend once departed, her panic was becoming a distraction.  
  
"We have to think," she exclaimed to Becky. "What were you doing before Azran ran off?"  
  
"We were playing pretend in the living room," she sniffled.  
  
"What kind of pretend," Ahn inquired.  
  
"We were pretending we were starships. I was the U.S.S. Luna and he was the U.S.S. Sisko. We were conducting battle exercises. We were having a lot of fun, going to warp and changing course and outrunning the enemy when all of a sudden Azran stopped in the middle of the room. He folded his arms and just stood there. I asked him what was the matter, and he said he didn't like his ship. All he kept saying was 'I want a big one.' I thought maybe he wanted his toy ships, so I went to his room to get them. When I came back, he was gone."  
  
Fifteen minutes later, Ahn, Becky, Nog, and Security Chief Jackson stood outside Shuttle Bay 2. Azran Sisko was smiling, face pressed against the observation window.  
  
"I was awfully near giving up in despair," Ahn explained to the Chief. "Becky and I had looked all through the Habitat Ring. I didn't think a little child could get very far on his own. I began to fear that perhaps someone might have taken him off the station. Then when Becky told me about the 'big one' it occurred to me. Where would a person go to see a real live big runabout? You must imagine my relief, ma'am, because I can't express it in words. You know there are some things that cannot be expressed in words."  
  
"Yes, I know," nodded the Chief. She looked at Ahn as if she were thinking some things about her that couldn't be expressed in words. Later on, however, she expressed them to Cassidy and Jake.  
  
"That little redheaded girl of Quark's is a bright one. I've never seen anyone so young keep such a level head. The Shuttle Bay can be a dangerous place for adults, God knows what might have happened if we didn't find Azran sooner. You know, Ahn seems to have a skill and presence of mind perfectly wonderful in a child of her age. Perhaps she'll make a good officer one day."  
  
Ahn and Nog were making their way through the crowds back to the bar. Though exhausted from the search, Ahn was still talking unweariedly to Nog when they paused before a window on the Promenade.  
  
"Oh, Nog, isn't it a wonderful afternoon? The universe looks like something the Prophets had just imagined for their own pleasures, doesn't it? The stars outside look as if I could blow them away with a breath - pouf! I'm so glad I live in a universe where there are stars, aren't you? And I'm so glad I was sent to the asylum after all. If I hadn't been I mightn't have known what to do for Azran Sisko. I'm real sorry I was ever cross about being there. But, oh, cousin, I'm so tired. I can't go to school tomorrow. I just know I couldn't keep my eyes open and I'd be so stupid. But l hate to stay home, for Evr - some of the others will get ahead, and it's so hard to catch up - although of course the harder it is the more satisfaction you have when you do catch up, correct?"  
  
"I guess you'll manage all right," said Nog, looking at Ahn's little pale face and red hair scattered wildly. "You just go to bed and have a good sleep. I'll watch the bar."  
  
Ahn accordingly went to bed and slept so long and soundly that it was well into evening when she awoke. Neither Nog or Quark had come home. After washing her face, she headed towards the Replimat for dinner. As she stepped in, she caught sight of Dr. Bashir, who was sitting and reading a datapadd.  
  
"Oh, did you see the Ambassador?" exclaimed Ahn at once. "What did she look like?"  
  
"Well, I thought she made an impressive show," said Julian, smiling. "She spoke very well. I believe she can do a great deal for Bajor. Of course, Quark, being a Conservative, had no use for her. I suppose you're quite exhausted, considering the day you've had. Nog has been telling me about Azran. I must say it was fortunate you knew what to do. I'm not sure I would've known where to look, for I never thought a child that young could make it all the way to the Shuttlebay. There now, never mind talking till you've had your dinner. I can tell that you've plenty to say, but it will keep."  
  
Julian had something else to tell Ahn, but he did not tell it just then for he knew if he did Ahn's consequent excitement would lift her clear out of the region of such material matters as appetite or dinner. Not until Ahn was halfway finished eating did he say:  
  
"I was speaking with Nurse Peters this afternoon, Ahn. She'd gone by your quarters, but no one answered the door. She says you did a very noble thing today, and she is very sorry she acted as she did over the incident with the currant wine. She says she knows now you didn't mean to get Becky drunk, and she hopes you'll be good friends with her daughter again. Why don't you go over this evening and talk to her. Now, Ahn, don't get yourself too excited..."  
  
The warning was necessary, so uplifted and aerial was Ahn's expression and attitude as she sprang to her feet, her face irradiated with the flame of her spirit.  
  
"Oh, Dr. Bashir, should I go right now...before finishing my chores? I have lots to catch up on, but I cannot tie myself down to anything so unromantic as cleaning at this thrilling moment."  
  
"Yes, yes, run along," said Julian, laughing. "Ahn...what about the rest of your meal? Oh, I might as well be talking to the wind. She's left everything here for me to clean up. Look at her just tearing through the Promenade with her hair flying in every direction. I hope she doesn't fall and break her neck."  
  
An hour later, Ahn came dancing down the corridors towards her quarters.  
  
"You see before you a perfectly happy person, Mr. Quark," she announced. "I'm perfectly happy...yes, in spite of my red hair. Just at present I have a soul above red hair. Mrs. Peters gave me a hug and said she was so sorry. I felt fearfully embarrassed, but I just said as politely as I could, 'I have no hard feelings for you, Mrs. Peters. I assure you once for all that I did not mean to intoxicate Becky and henceforth I shall cover the past with the mantle of oblivion.' That was a pretty dignified way of speaking wasn't it, Mr. Quark?"  
  
I felt that I was heaping buckets of plasma on Mrs. Peters head. And Becky and I had a lovely evening. Becky showed me a new game her father on New Bajor taught her. Not a soul on Deep Space Nine knows it but us, and we've pledged a solemn vow never to reveal it to anyone else. Becky gave me a beautiful card with little hearts drawn on it and a verse of poetry:

  
_"If you love me as I love you  
Not even death can part us two."_

  
And that is true, Mr. Quark. We're going to ask Mr. Kretak to let us sit together in school again, and Rislan Dana can go with William Toliver. We had a wonderful dinner. Mrs. Peters had the very best china set out, just as if I was real company. I can't tell you what a thrill it gave me. Nobody ever used their very best china on my account before. And we had steak and potatoes and broccoli and cake and two kinds of ice cream, Mr. Quark. And Mrs. Peters asked me if I would like tea and said 'Dear, would you like one lump or two?' It must be lovely to be grown up, when just being treated as if you were is so nice."  
  
"I don't know about that," said Quark, leaning his head into his hand.  
  
"Well, anyway, when I am grown up," said Ahn decidedly, "I'm always going to talk to little children as if they were people too, and I'll never laugh when they use big words. I know from sorrowful experience how that hurts one's feelings. After tea Becky and I tried to dance. We weren't very good, I suppose because neither Becky nor I had ever really tried before. Becky turned on some music then she took my hand and tried to lead but she stumbled then I stumbled and we just kept falling on the floor. Nurse Peters just laughed and laughed, but the attempt was was splendid fun. Then before I left Nurse Peters said I could come over as often as I wished and Becky stood at the door and waved to me all the way to the turbolift. I assure you, Mr. Quark, that I feel like praying tonight and I'm going to think out a special brand-new prayer to the Prophets in honor of this occasion."  
  
- - - - -   
  
**EPISODE XIV  
A Celebration, A Catastrophe, and A Confession**  
  
"Mr. Quark, can I go over to see Becky just for a minute?" asked Ahn, running breathlessly into the bar late one evening.  
  
"I don't see why you want to go traipsing about the station at this hour,"said Quark shortly. "You and Becky walked home from school together and then stood in the corridor for half an hour more, your tongues going the whole time, clickety-clack. So I don't think you're very badly off to see her again."  
  
"But she wants to see me," pleaded Ahn. "She has something very important to tell me."  
  
"How do you know she has?"  
  
"Because she left me a message. We have arranged a special way to communicate. We write notes in code on a piece of paper and leave them at certain designated spots on the station. If anyone else tries to read it, it makes no sense, but Becky and I know what they say. A circle means a certain thing, a squiggly line means another, and so on. It was my idea, Mr. Quark."

"I'll warrant you it was," said Quark emphatically. "And the next thing you'll have me cited for littering with this note-writing nonsense."  
  
"Oh, we're very careful, Mr. Quark. And it's so interesting. One circle and one triangle means, 'Are you there?' Three straight lines mean 'yes' and four 'no.' Five mean, 'Come over as soon as possible, because I have something important to reveal.' I have just found a paper with five lines on it, and I'm really dying to know what it is."  
  
"Well, I wouldn't want to be the cause of your demise," said Quark sarcastically. "You can go, but you're to be back here in just ten minutes, remember that."  
  
Ahn did remember it and was back in the stipulated time, although probably no mortal will ever know just what it cost her to confine the discussion of Becky's important communication within the limits of ten minutes. But at least she had made good use of them.  
  
"Oh, Mr. Quark, what do you think? You know tomorrow is Becky's birthday. Her father will come from New Bajor. And her aunt is coming on a transport tomorrow afternoon. There is going to be a big party and the whole school is invited. And her mother told her she could ask me to go home with her from school today and stay the night and go with them tomorrow. That is, if you'll let me go. You will, won't you, Mr. Quark? Oh, I feel so excited."  
  
"You can calm down then, because you're not going. You're better off here working and learning about business and listening to the Vedeks and their sermons and stuff like that. As for birthday parties, it's all nonsense. Young females have no business taking place in that kind of useless frivolity."  
  
"But they are all good people," pleaded Ahn.  
  
"I'm not saying they aren't. But you're not going to begin running about the station and staying out all hours of the night. People will say I'm unfit."  
  
"But it's such a very special occasion," mourned Ahn, on the verge of tears. "Becky has only one birthday in a year. It isn't as if birthdays were common things, Mr. Quark. And Becky's parents have planned such a day. Her father will make a bar-b-que, and her mother and aunt will bake a HUGE cake. They have only invited the best sort of people, and I'm sure it would do me lots of good to be around them. And there will be games. And oh, Mr. Quark, maybe even Commander Kira will stop by; yes, indeed, she may even give an address. That would be just about the same thing as a sermon. Please, may I go, Mr. Quark?"  
  
"You heard what I said, Ahn, didn't you? Go back to our quarters now and go to bed. It's way past your bedtime."  
  
"There's just one more thing, Mr. Quark," said Ahn, with the air of producing the last shot in her locker." Becky told me that at the party, I would be sitting in the seat next to her. Think of the honor of your little Ahn being seated at the right hand of the honored guest."  
  
"It's an honor you'll have to get along without. Go to bed, Ahn, and don't let me hear another word out of you."  
  
When Ahn, with tears rolling over her cheeks, had gone sorrowfully to her quarters, Nog, who had witnessed the whole encounter, came forward and said decidedly:  
  
"Uncle, I think you ought to let Ahn go."  
  
"Well, I don't" retorted Quark. "Who's bringing this child up, you or me?"  
  
"Well, you Uncle," admitted Nog.  
  
"Don't interfere then."  
  
"I'm not interfering. It's not interfering when one expresses their own opinion. And my opinion is that you ought to let Ahn go."  
  
"You'd think I ought to let Ahn rule the universe if she took the notion, I've no doubt" was Quark's amiable rejoinder. "I might have let her go stay the night at Becky's, if that was all. But I don't approve of this party plan. She'd go there and catch some sickness, or have her head filled up with nonsense and excitement. It would unsettle her for a week. I understand that child's disposition and what's good for it better than you, Nog."  
  
"I think you ought to let Ahn go," repeated Nog firmly. Argument was not his strong point, but holding fast to his opinion certainly was. Quark gave a grunt of frustration and took refuge in silence. The next morning, when Ahn was placing the breakfast dishes in the replicator, Nog paused on his way out to Engineering to say to Quark again:  
  
"I think you ought to let Ahn go, Uncle."  
  
For a moment Quark looked things not lawful to be uttered. Then he yielded to the inevitable and said tartly:  
  
"Very well, she can go, since nothing else'll shut you up."  
  
With that, Ahn flew into his arms.  
  
"Oh, Mr. Quark, Mr. Quark, say those blessed words again."  
  
"Once is good enough. This is Nog's doing and I wash my hands of it. If you catch some kind of space sickness up there, don't blame me, blame Nog. Kor Ahn, you're wrinkling my suit. I never saw such a careless child."  
  
"Oh, I know I'm a great trial to you," said Ahn repentantly. "I make so many mistakes. But then just think of all the mistakes I don't make, although I might. Take off your coat and I'll fix it before I go to school. Oh, Mr. Quark, my heart was just set on spending the day with Becky. I never was to a birthday party in my life, and when the other children talk about them in school I feel so out of it. You didn't know just how I felt about it, but you see Nog did. Nog understands me, and it's so nice to be understood."  
  
Ahn was too excited to do herself justice as to lessons that morning in school. Evron Tared spelled her down in class and left her clear out of sight in calculus. Ahn's consequent humiliation was less than it might have been, however, in view of the upcoming party. She and Becky talked so constantly about it all day that with a stricter teacher than Mr. Kretak dire disgrace must inevitably have been their portion.  
  
Ahn felt that she could not have borne it if she had not been going to be with Becky, for nothing else was discussed that day in school. The Universal Scouting Association, which met twice a week all school year, had held several smaller free entertainments; but this was to be a big affair. The entire class had been invited to the celebration, but not all were able to go. Those lucky enough to make it had spent days picking out gifts and thinking of what they would wear.  
  
For Ahn the real excitement began with the conclusion of the weekly school session and increased therefrom in crescendo until it reached to a crash of positive ecstasy the day of the party itself. Ahn entered Becky's quarters, and true, she could not help a little pang when she contrasted her plain, odd-colored, replicated outfit with Becky's jaunty tailored dress and smart little jacket. But she remembered in time that she had an imagination and could use it.  
  
"Oh, Becky," breathed Ahn, squeezing Becky's hand, "isn't it all like a beautiful dream? Do I look the same as usual? I feel so different that it seems to me it must show in my looks."  
  
"You look awfully nice," said Becky, "And you've got the loveliest color."

The celebration that night was a series of "thrills" for at least one of the guests, and, as Ahn assured Becky, every succeeding thrill was thrillier than the last. Upon entering the specially reserved room, decked out in colored streamers and balloons, Ahn clasped her hands in pure delight. When Ahn tasted the ribs and potato salad and various other Earth delicacies, she gazed at the ceiling as if a Prophet's orb had made an appearance. When B'Toreth failed in his attempts to "pin the tail on the donkey," Ahn laughed at the sight until the people standing near her laughed too, that is, until the young Klingon growled in their immediate direction. Then, Mr. Kretak stood to recite a traditional Bajoran birthday blessing in the most heartstirring tones - looking at N'arelta at the end of every verse - Ahn felt that she could rise and mutiny on the spot if but one citizen led the way.  
  
Only one guest failed to interest her. When Evron Tared led the class in a chorus of "Happy Birthday," Ahn stared down at her feet until everyone had finished, then sat rigidly stiff and motionless while Becky clapped her hands until they tingled.  
  
It was late evening when Ahn, Becky, and the rest of the Peters family returned to their quarters. Though sated with dissipation, there remained in the girls the exceeding sweet pleasure of talking it all over. As Becky's parents and aunt dispersed to their rooms, they tiptoed into the guest quarters. It was a long narrow room that had been warmed to suit a Cardassian.  
  
"Let's change here," said Becky. "My outfit's just cooking me."  
  
"Hasn't it been a delightful time?" sighed Ahn rapturously. "It must be splendid to receive so much attention in one day. Do you suppose I could ever be the center of attention?"  
  
"Yes, of course, someday. You're a big scholar, you know. They expect all the big scholars to enter the competitions. N'arelta's done it often and she's not that much older than us. Oh, Ahn, how could you pretend not to listen to him today? When he came to the line,  
  
"'May the Prophets bless you...' he looked right over at you."  
  
"Becky," said Ahn with dignity, "you are my bosom friend, but I cannot allow even you to speak to me of that person. Are you ready to turn in? Let's run a race and see who'll get to the bed first."

The suggestion appealed to Becky. The two little blue-clad figures flew from one corner of the room, and bounded on the bed at the same moment. And then- something- moved beneath them, there was a gasp and a cry- and somebody said in muffled accents:  
  
"For the love of ALMIGHTY GOD!"  
  
Ahn and Becky were never able to tell just how they got off that bed and out of the guest room. They only knew that after that frantic moment they found themselves bolting down the hall.

"Oh, who was it - WHAT was it?" whispered Ahn, her teeth chattering with cold and fright.  
  
"My Uncle Quinn," said Becky, gasping with laughter. "Oh, Ahn, it was Uncle Quinn, however he came to be there. Oh, and I know he will be furious. It's dreadful - it's really dreadful - but did you ever know anything so funny, Ahn?"  
  
"Who is Uncle Quinn?"  
  
"He's my father's brother and he must have come with him from New Bajor. He absolutely HATES kids, and I don't believe he was EVER a little boy. I never expected him to come here for a visit. He's awfully prim and proper and he'll scold dreadfully about this, I know. Well, we'll have to sleep in my room now, even though it's probably too cold for you."  
  
Quinn Peters did not appear at breakfast the next morning. Nurse Peters smiled kindly at the two little girls.  
  
"Did you have a good time last night? I was so tired from cleaning up after the party that I forgot to tell you Uncle Quinn had come with Mr. Peters. He couldn't make it to the party, but he did help us set up and cook. I hope you guys didn't disturb him."  
  
Becky preserved a discreet silence, but she and Ahn exchanged furtive smiles of guilty amusement across the table. Ahn hurried home after breakfast and so remained in blissful ignorance of the disturbance which presently resulted in the Peters household until the late afternoon, when she went down to the Infirmary on an errand for Quark.  
  
"So you and my daughter nearly frightened poor Quinn to death last night?" said Nurse Peters severely. "He and my husband just left for New Bajor a few minutes ago. Old Quinn was in a terrible temper when he got up this morning, and Quinn Peters' temper is no joke, I can tell you that. He wouldn't speak to any of us."  
  
"It wasn't your daughter's fault," said Ahn contritely. "It was mine. I suggested racing to see who would get into bed first. The sight of a Cardassian must have...thrown him a bit."  
  
"I knew it!" she said, with the exultation of a correct guesser. "I knew that idea came from your head. Well, you've made some trouble for us now. Before he got on that transport, Quinn solidly declared that he would NEVER set foot in this sector again. Even worse, he took back his promise to pay for Becky's piano lessons. Her teacher's the best in the quadrant, and ONLY takes payment in latinum. We can't afford it on our own and Quinn was her only hope. Now the only thing he's considering paying for is a restraining order. I bet Becky's father is having a time of it now. He must feel as if he's being flattened. Quinn Peters is a quick-tempered man and we were TRYING to keep him on our good side."  
  
"I'm such an unlucky girl," mourned Ahn. "I'm always getting into scrapes myself and getting my best friends...people I'd shed my heart's blood for...into them too. Can you tell me why it is so?"  
  
"It's because you're too heedless and impulsive, child, that's what. You never stop to think. Whatever comes into your head to say or do you say or do it without a moment's reflection."  
  
"Oh, but that's the best of it," protested Ahn. "Something just flashes into your mind, so exciting, and you must out with it. If you stop to think it over you spoil it all. Haven't you never felt that yourself, Nurse Peters?"  
  
No, Nurse Peters had not. She shook her head sagely.  
  
"You must learn to think a little, Ahn, that's what. "Look before you leap - especially into guest-room beds."  
  
Nurse Peters laughed comfortably over her mild joke, but Ahn remained pensive. She saw nothing to laugh at in the situation, which to her eyes appeared very serious.  
  
Later that evening, as she made her way across the Promenade, Becky encountered Ahn.  
  
"Your Uncle Quinn was very cross about it, wasn't he?" whispered Ahn.  
  
"Yes," answered Becky, stifling a giggle with an apprehensive glance over her shoulder. "He was fairly dancing with rage, Ahn. Oh, how he scolded. He said I was the worst-behaved girl he ever saw and that my parents ought to be ashamed of the way they had brought me up. He says he won't give me any money and I'm sure I don't care. But my parents do."  
  
"Why didn't you tell them it was my fault?" demanded Ahn.  
  
"It's likely I'd do such a thing, isn't it?" said Becky with just scorn. "I'm no telltale, Kor Ahn, and anyhow I was just as much to blame as you."  
  
"Well, I'm going send a message to him. I'll tell him myself," said Ahn resolutely.   
  
Becky gasped. "Ahn, you'd never! Why, he'll eat you alive!"  
  
"Don't frighten me any more than I am already," implored Ahn. "I'd rather walk up to a torpedo's head. But I've got to do it, Becky. It was my fault and I've got to confess. I've had practice in confessing, fortunately."  
  
"Well, you can try," said Becky. I wouldn't dare, though. I don't believe it'll do you a bit of good."

With this encouragement Ahn walked over to a nearby computer. She prompted it to open a line to the Peters' residence on New Bajor. A sharp "Yes?" followed.  
  
Quinn Peters, short, prim, and rigid, was sitting at his desk, his wrath quite unappeased and his eyes glaring through the viewscreen. He leaned forward in his chair, expecting to see Becky, and beheld a red-headed Cardassian girl whose great eyes were brimmed up with a mixture of desperate courage and shrinking terror.  
  
"Who are you?" demanded Quinn, without ceremony.  
  
"I'm Ahn of Deep Space Nine," said the caller tremulously, clasping her hands with her characteristic gesture, "and I've come to confess, if you please."  
  
"Confess what?"  
  
"That it was all my fault about jumping into bed on you last night. I suggested it. Your Becky would never have thought of such a thing, I am sure. Becky is a very ladylike girl, sir. So you must see how unjust it is to blame her."  
  
"Oh, I must, eh? I rather think Becky did her share of the jumping at least. Such carryings on in respectable quarters!"  
  
"But we were only in fun," persisted Ahn. "I think you ought to forgive us, sir, now that we've apologized. And anyhow, please forgive Becky and let her have her music lessons. Becky's heart is set on her music lessons, and I know too well what it is to set your heart on a thing and not get it. If you must be cross with anyone, be cross with me. I've been so used in my early days to having people cross at me that I can endure it much better than she can."  
  
Much of the glare had gone out of the man's eyes by this time and was replaced by a twinkle of amused interest. But he still said severely:  
  
"I don't think it is any excuse for you that you were only in fun. In my family, little children never indulged in that kind of fun when I was young. You don't know what it is to be awakened out of a sound sleep, after a long and arduous journey, by two girls bouncing down on you."  
  
"I don't KNOW, but I can IMAGINE," said Ahn eagerly. "I'm sure it must have been very disturbing. But then, there is our side of it too. Have you any imagination, Mr. Peters? If you have, just put yourself in our place. We didn't know there was anybody in that bed and you nearly scared us to death. It was simply awful the way we felt. And then I couldn't sleep in the spare room after being promised. I suppose you are used to sleeping in spare rooms. But just imagine what you would feel like if you were a little orphan girl who had never had such an honor."

All the snap had gone by this time. Quinn Peters actually laughed- a sound which caused Becky, waiting in speechless anxiety out of visual range, to give a great gasp of relief.  
  
"I'm afraid my imagination is a little rusty, it's been a while since I've used it," he said. "I dare say your claim to sympathy is just as strong as mine. It all depends on the way we look at it. Well, why don't you stick around and tell me something about yourself."  
  
"I am very sorry I can't," said Ahn firmly. "I would like to, because you seem like an interesting man, and you might even be a kindred spirit although you don't look very much like it. But it is my duty to go home to Mr. Quark. He is a very kind man who has taken me to bring up properly. He is doing his best, but it can be very discouraging work. You must not blame him because I jumped on the bed. But before I go I do wish you would tell me if you will forgive Becky and will consider letting her have her lessons."  
  
"I think perhaps I will," said Mr. Peters.  
  
A week later Quinn sent a communique' to Becky's parents notifying them that said funds had been transferred to their account.  
  
Quark's only comment when he heard the story was, "I told you so." This was for Nog's benefit.

Several months later Quinn Peters did return to the station for a visit. He turned out to be a more agreeable guest than was expected, for Ahn kept him in good humor. They became firm friends.  
  
When Mr. Peters went away he said:  
  
"Remember, my girl, when you get the chance, come to New Bajor and visit me. I'll put you in my very sparest spare-room bed to sleep."  
  
"Mr. Peters was a kindred spirit, after all," Ahn confided to Quark. "You wouldn't think so to look at him, but he is. You don't find it right out at first, as in our case, after a while you come to see it. Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It's splendid to find out there are so many of them in the universe."

  
  
  



	4. Ahn of Deep Space Nine Episodes 15 to 19

**Ahn of Deep Space Nine**  
  
A fan-novel, based on _Anne of Green Gables_ by Lucy Maud Montgomery and _STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE.  
  
DISCLAIMER:_ This was written solely for the sake of fun. No money is being made here, and no copyright infringement is intended. Takes place after "What You Leave Behind," the final episode of _Deep Space Nine._

_- - - - -_

**EPISODE XV  
A Good Imagination Gone Wrong**  
  
Seasons of change had come once more to the planet Bajor. In the northern continents, winter gave way to the beautiful, capricious spring, while in the south, summer merged into fall with gentle breezes and bright orange sunsets. These changes did not go unnoticed on Deep Space Nine. In the Arboretum, the arbak bushes were sprouting , with little yellow blossoms pushing up from pale green buds. Further down the way, the Vulcan wildflowers blossomed out, blue and fushica stars of sweetness under their brown leaves. All the school girls and boys had one golden afternoon gathering them, coming home in the evening with arms and baskets full of flowery spoil.  
  
"I'm so sorry for people who live in places where there are no live flowers," said Ahn. "Becky says the replicated ones never die, but there couldn't be anything better than the real thing, could there, Mr. Quark? And Becky says if they don't know what they are like they don't miss them. But I think that is the saddest thing of all. I think it would be TRAGIC, not to know what real flowers are like and NOT to miss them. Do you know what I think Vulcan wildflowers are, Mr. Quark? I think they must be the souls of the flowers that died last summer and this is their heaven. But we had a splendid time today, Mr. Quark. We had our lunch near a tiny lake... such a ROMANTIC spot. Shane Wilson dared B'Toreth to jump over it, and he did because Klingon warriors have no fear. No one else in the school would've done it. These, days, it is very FASHIONABLE to dare. Mr. Kretak gave all the flowers he found to N'arelta and I heard him to say 'beauty for beauty.' He got that out of an old Bajoran book, I know; but it shows he has some imagination. I was offered some flowers too, but I rejected them with scorn. I can't tell you the person's name because I have vowed never to let it cross my lips. Everyone made wreaths with their flowers and put them on their heads; and when the time came to go home we marched in procession down the Promenade, two by two, with our bouquets and wreaths, singing. Oh, it was so thrilling, Mr. Quark. Everyone just stopped right where they were to look at us. We made a real sensation."  
  
"I'll bet you did!" was Quark's response.  
  
That evening, Ahn made a necklace from her flowers. The next day, she wore it to school. As she made her way to her desk, reverent eyes gazed at her along the way.  
  
"These days," she told Becky, "I don't really care whether Ev- whether anybody gets ahead of me in class or not. But there are times when I wake up and I feel that I care as much as ever. There's such a lot of different Ahns in me. I sometimes think that is why I'm such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Ahn it would be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn't be half so interesting."  
  
One late afternoon in the summer, when the arbak bushes were fully blossomed, and the air was full of the savor of Andorian clover, Ahn was sitting alone in the Arboretum. She had been studying her math by the little pond, but her eyes had grown tired. She had fallen into a deep reverie, gazing deep into the pond, where the goldfish were darting about.  
  
Presently Quark came briskly in. He spotted her, and walked over with a short sigh. He had had one of his earaches that afternoon, and although the pain had gone he felt weak and "depleted," as he expressed it. Ahn looked at him with eyes limpid with sympathy.  
  
"I do truly wish I could have had the earache in your place, Mr. Quark. I would have endured it joyfully for your sake."  
  
"I guess you did your part by working and letting me rest," said Quark. "You seem to be making fewer mistakes than usual. Of course it wasn't exactly necessary to polish UNDERNEATH the counter! And most people when they store live tubegrubs they place it in a refrigeration unit instead of leaving them on the table. But that doesn't seem to be your way evidently."  
  
Earaches always left Quark somewhat sarcastic.  
  
"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Ahn penitently. "I never thought about the tubegrubs from the moment I put them on the table till now, although I felt INSTINCTIVELY that there was something not quite right about them. When I went to set things up, they weren't very "lively." I was firmly resolved, when you left me in charge this morning, not to imagine anything, but keep my thoughts on the facts. I did pretty well until I came to the tubegrubs, and then an irresistible temptation came to me to imagine I was an enchanted princess shut up in a lonely tower with a handsome knight riding to my rescue on a coal-black steed. So that is how they came to be left on the table. I didn't know I wasn't supposed to polish underneath the counter. All the time I was working on it I was trying to think of a name for a new asteroid Becky and I had spotted with the school telescope. It's the most ravishing thing, Quark. There are two huge craters on it and a trail that is shaped just like an arrow. At last it struck me that it would be splendid to call it the Scholar's Asteroid because we found it while we were at school. Both Becky and I are very loyal to our school. But I'm sorry about that counter and those tubegrubs. I wanted to be extra good today because it's an anniversary. Do you remember what happened this day last year, Mr. Quark?"  
  
"No, I can't think of anything special."  
  
"Oh, Mr. Quark, it was the day I came to Deep Space Nine. I shall never forget it. It was the turning point in my life. Of course it wouldn't seem so important to you. I've been here for a year and I've been so happy. Of course, I've had my troubles, but one can live down troubles. Are you sorry you kept me, Mr. Quark?"  
  
"No, I can't say I'm sorry," said Quark, who sometimes wondered how he could have lived before Ahn came to the station, "No, not exactly sorry. If you've finished your lessons, Ahn, I want you to run over and ask Dr. Bashir if he can give me something for my ears."  
  
"Oh...it's...it's too late," cried Ahn.  
  
"Too late? Why, it's just now turning into evening. And goodness knows you've run about the station often enough in the evenings."  
  
"I'll go over early in the morning," said Ahn eagerly. "I'll get up at dawn and go, Mr. Quark."  
  
"What's gotten into you? I need some medicine. Go NOW."  
  
"I'll have to take the turbolift down at the other end, then," said Ahn, rising and picking up her things reluctantly.  
  
"And waste fifteen minutes with all that walking?"  
  
"I can't take the turbolift, Mr. Quark," cried Ahn desperately.  
  
Quark stared. "What in the name of the Nagus is this about?"  
  
"It's the 'Haunted Turbolift' ," said Ahn in a whisper.  
  
"Ridiculous! There is no such thing as a 'Haunted Turbolift' anywhere. Who's been telling you this?"  
  
"Nobody," confessed Ahn. "Becky and I just imagined the turbolift was haunted. All the places around here are so...so... COMMONPLACE. We just got this up for our own amusement. We began it last month. A haunted turbolift is so very romantic, Mr. Quark. We chose that one because it's so gloomy. Oh, we have imagined the most harrowing things. There's an unhappy borha that just makes the most horrifying cries. It appears when there has been a death on the station. And another one haunts the corner up by the Infirmary; it creeps up behind you and tightens its cold fingers on your neck- so. Oh, Mr. Quark, it gives me a shudder to think of it. And there's a headless man that stalks up and down the corridor and skeletons glower at you from the corners. Oh, Mr. Quark, I wouldn't use that turbolift for anything. I'd be sure that white things would reach out from behind the grates and grab me."  
  
"Oh, I've never heard anything so stupid!" exclaimed Quark, who had listened in complete amazement. "You mean to tell me you believe all this?"  
  
"Not believe EXACTLY," faltered Ahn. "At least, I don't believe it in daylight. But after dark, Mr. Quark, it's different. That is when the _borhas_ walk."  
  
"There are no such things as _borhas_, or any other kind of spirit, Ahn."  
  
"Oh, but there are," cried Ahn eagerly. "I know people who have seen them. And they are respectable people. Rislan Dana says that her grandmother saw her grandfather in the fields one night after he'd been buried for a year. Now her grandmother wouldn't tell a story for anything. They say she's a very religious woman. And William Toliver said his brother was pursued home one night by a bolt of fire. At the time he said he thought it was the spirit of his friend and that it was a warning he would die within nine days. He didn't, but he died two years after, so you see it was really true. And Leslie Brooks says..."  
  
"Ahn," interrupted Quark firmly, "I never want to hear you talk like this again. I've had my doubts about that imagination of yours all along, and if this is going to be the outcome of it, I won't have it. You'll go to the Infirmary, and you'll use the turbolift right over here. Let this be a lesson and a warning to you. And never let me hear a word out of your mouth about anything haunted ever again."  
  
Ahn might plead and cry as she liked - and did, for her terror was very real. Her imagination had run away with her and she held that particular turbolift in mortal dread. But Quark was inexorable. He marched the shrinking spirit-seer down in front of it and ordered her to step into that retreat of wailing borhas and headless specters beyond.  
  
"Oh, Mr. Quark, how can you be so cruel?" sobbed Ahn. "What would you feel like if a white thing did snatch me up and carry me off?"  
  
"I'll risk it," said Quark unfeelingly. "You know I always mean what I say. I'll cure you of imagining things. Now move."  
  
Ahn moved. That is, she stumbled into the turbolift and turned around, shuddering as the doors closed tightly shut before her. Ahn never forgot that ride. Bitterly did she repent the license she had given to her imagination. The goblins of her fancy lurked in every shadow about her, reaching out their cold, fleshless hands to grasp the terrified small girl who had called them into being.  
A whoosh of air made her heart stand still. The sound of metal clanking brought out the perspiration in beads on her forehead. The quick flickering of lights were the actions of unholy creatures. When the doors slid open, she fled across them as if pursued by an army of white things, and arrived at the Infirmary so out of breath that she could hardly gasp out her request to Nurse Slocomb for the medicine. Dr. Bashir and Nurse Peters were not present, so she had no excuse to linger. The dreadful return journey had to be faced. Ahn entered the turbolift once more, with shut eyes, preferring to take the risk of dashing her brains out running into the door than of seeing a white thing. When she finally stumbled out she drew one long shivering breath of relief.  
  
"So nothing caught you?" said Quark unsympathetically.  
  
"Oh, M-M-Mr. - Quark," chattered Ahn, "I'll b-b-be contt-tented with c-c-common, everyday places after this."  
  
- - - - -   
  
**EPISODE XVI  
A New Departure in Flavorings**  
  
"Dear me, there is nothing but meetings and partings in this universe, as I remember Vedek Moriel always saying," remarked Ahn plaintively, putting her data padds down on the living room table one day after school and wiping her red eyes with her sleeve. "Wasn't it fortunate, Mr. Quark, that I wore a dress with long sleeves to school today? I had a presentiment that it would be needed."  
  
"I didn't you liked Mr. Kretak enough to need a sleeve to cry on," Quark said.  
  
"I don't think I was crying because I liked him," reflected Ahn. "I just cried because all the others were. It was Rislan Dana who started it. She always said she hated Mr. Kretak, but just as soon as he got up to make his farewell speech she burst into tears. Then all the other children began to cry, one after the other. I tried to hold out, though. I tried to remember the time he made me sit with Ev - with a, boy; and the time he spelled my name with too many letters on the blackboard; and how he said I was the worst dunce he ever saw at interplanetary history and laughed at my spelling; and all the times he had been so horrible and sarcastic; but somehow I couldn't, and I just had to cry too. Sitan Atla has been talking for a month about how glad she'd be when Mr. Kretak went away and she declared she'd never shed a tear. Well, she was worse than any of us and had to borrow a handkerchief from B'Toreth- of course Klingons don't cry...because she hadn't brought one of her own, not expecting to need it. Oh, Mr. Quark, it was heartrending. Mr. Kretak made such a beautiful farewell speech. The conclusion, 'Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end,' was very affecting. And he had tears in his eyes too. Oh, I felt dreadfully sorry and remorseful for all the times I'd talked in school and drawn pictures of him on my padd and made fun of him and N'aralta. I can tell you I wished I'd been a model pupil like she was. She hadn't anything on her conscience. Most of the children cried all the way home from school. Ayla Krel kept saying every few minutes, 'Every new beginning...' and that would start us off again whenever we were in any danger of cheering up. I do feel dreadfully sad, Mr. Quark. But one can't feel quite in the depths of despair when vacation is but only three months' away. And besides, we met the new teacher and her husband coming as they stepped out of the airlock. For all I was feeling so bad about Mr. Kretak going away I couldn't help taking a little interest in the new teacher, could I? They are both Trills, and her husband is very handsome. Fashionably handsome, some would even say. Dr. Bashir remembers that back when Mrs. O'Brien was teacher, fashion wasn't much of an issue. He said that Chief O' Brien practically LIVED in his uniform. Our new teacher's husband was dressed in a dark green suit with embroidered sleeves and shiny matching shoes. Rislan Dana said she thought the shoes looked too worldly for a teacher's husband, but I didn't make any such uncharitable remark, Mr. Quark, because I know what it is to long for lovely things. Besides, he's only been a teacher's husband for a little while, so one should make allowances, shouldn't they? They are going to stay in the visitor's suite until their quarters are set up."  
  
Reda and Nami Chel were a young, pleasant-faced couple, still on their honeymoon, and full of all good and beautiful enthusiasms for their chosen lifework. Deep Space Nine opened its heart to them from the start. Old and young liked the frank, cheerful Trills with their high ideals, and with them both Ahn fell promptly and whole- heartedly in love. She had discovered two more kindred spirits.  
  
"Mrs. Chel is perfectly lovely," Ahn announced one afternoon. "She's just a splendid teacher. She said right away she didn't think it was fair for the teacher to ask all the questions, and you know, that is exactly what I've always thought. She said we could ask her any question we liked and I asked ever so many. I'm good at asking questions, Mr. Quark."  
  
"I believe you," Quark's emphatically replied.  
  
"Nobody else asked any except Nio Bridel, and he asked if there were to be a school picnic again next fall. I didn't think that was a very proper question to ask because it hadn't any connection with the lesson...we were working on Vulcan history...but Mrs. Chel just smiled and said she thought there would be. Mrs. Chel has a lovely smile; she has such EXQUISITE dimples in her cheeks. I wish I had dimples in my cheeks, Mr. Quark. I'm not half so skinny as I was when I came here, but I have no dimples yet. If I had perhaps I could influence people for good. Mrs. Chel said we ought always to try to influence other people for good. She talked so nice about everything. I never knew before that history could be such a cheerful thing. I always thought it was kind of melancholy, but Mrs. Chel isn't, and I'd like to be a teacher if I could be one like her. I wouldn't want to be one like Mr. Kretak."  
  
"Don't talk like that about the man!" said Quark severely. "Kretak Baron was a fine customer."  
  
"I'm sure he was," agreed Ahn, "but he didn't seem to have any joy in life. If I could, I'd dance and sing all day because I was glad of it. I suppose Mr. and Mrs. Chel are too busy to dance and sing and of course it wouldn't be dignified for a teacher and her husband. But I can just feel they'd be glad to do so even if it put their reputation at stake."  
  
"I suppose we should invite them to dinner soon," said Quark reflectively. "Afterwards, maybe I could introduce them to the Dabo wheels. Let me see. Tomorrow evening would be excellent. But don't say a word to anyone else about it. I'm sure Commander Kira and the others have been filling their minds with all kinds of exaggerated and untrue stories about my humble establishment. Now is the time to dispel them."  
  
"I'll be as secret as the dead," assured Ahn. "But oh, Mr. Quark, will you let me make a cake for the occasion? I'd love to do something for them, and you know I can make a pretty good cake by this time."  
  
"You can make a cake," promised Quark.  
  
That day, great preparations went on at the bar. Having the new teacher and her husband to dinner was a serious and important undertaking, and Quark was determined not to be eclipsed. Ahn was wild with excitement and delight. She talked it all over with Becky after breakfast, as they walked across the Promenade.  
  
"Everything is ready, Becky, except my cake which I'm to make this afternoon. I assure you, Becky, that Mr. Quark and I will have a busy day of it. It's such a responsibility having a teacher and her husband to dinner. I never went through such an experience before. You should just see the bar now. It's a sight to behold. There is a huge cheese tray and a jumja basket. We will also have Chicken Picatta, then Bolian ochre salad and Klingon Blood Pie. We're to have two kinds of drinks, fruit punch and Romulan ale. Mr. Quark says Trills have a high tolerance for liquor, but I don't think the Chels has been drinking long enough for this rule to apply. I just grow cold when I think of my layer cake. Oh, Becky, what if it shouldn't be good! I dreamed last night that I was chased all around by a fearful spirit with a big layer cake for a head."  
  
"It'll be good, for sure," assured Becky, who was a very comfortable sort of friend. "I couldn't get enough of the one you made for lunch two weeks ago."  
  
"Yes; but cakes have such a terrible habit of turning out bad just when you especially want them to be good," sighed Ahn, stopping long enough to watch a comet pass. "However, I suppose I shall just have to trust the Prophets and be careful to put in the flour. Oh, look, Becky, what a lovely view! Do you suppose the spirits will come out after we go away and ride upon it?"  
  
"You know there is no such thing as spirits," said Becky. Becky's mother had found out about the 'Haunted Turbolift' and had been decidedly angry over it. As a result Becky had abstained from any further imitative flights of imagination and did not think it prudent to cultivate belief even in harmless spirits.  
  
"But it's so easy to imagine there is," said Ahn. "Every night before I go to bed, I look out of my window and wonder if they are really sitting here, combing their locks with the stars for a mirror. Sometimes I look for traces of them them in the dust clouds. Oh, Becky, don't give up your faith in the spirits!"  
  
Ahn returned to her quarters two hours later. She felt some slight swelling in her sinuses which had came about from building snowmen in the holosuite the preceding evening; but nothing short of absolute paralysis could have quenched her interest in culinary matters that morning. She proceeded to make her cake, and when she finally shut the oven door upon it she drew a long breath.  
  
"I'm sure I haven't forgotten anything this time, Mr. Quark. But do you think it will rise? Just suppose perhaps the baking powder isn't good? I used a fresh package, but these days, what does that mean? Dr. Bashir says you can never be sure of getting fresh food nowadays since everything is so adulterated. Dr. Bashir says the Government ought to take the matter up, but he says we'll never see the current officials doing that. Mr. Quark, what if that cake doesn't rise?"  
  
"We'll have plenty without it" was Quark's unimpassioned way of looking at the subject.  
  
The cake did rise, however, and came out of the oven as light and feathery as golden foam. Ahn, flushed with delight, clapped it together with layers of Vulcan root jelly and, in imagination, saw Mr. and Mrs. Chel eating it and possibly asking for another piece!  
  
"You'll be using the second-best dishes, of course, Mr. Quark," she said, following him to the bar.   
  
"Can I fix the table with ferns and wild pansies?"  
  
"I think that's all nonsense," sniffed Quark. "In my opinion it's the food that matters and not a bunch of ridiculous decorations."  
  
"The tables at the Replimat are decorated," said Ahn, who was not entirely guiltless of the wisdom of the serpent, "and Mr. Chel made an elegant compliment. It was simple, but he said it was a feast for the eyes."  
  
"Well, do what you want," said Quark, who was quite determined not to be surpassed by the Replimat or anybody else. "Just leave enough room for the dishes and the food."  
  
Having abundance of wild pansies and ferns and a very artistic taste of her own, Ahn made that bar table such a thing of beauty that when the Reda and Nami Chel sat down to it they exclaimed in chorus over it loveliness.  
  
"It's Ahn's doing," said Quark, grimly just; and Ahn felt the approving smiles were almost too much happiness for this world.  
  
All went merry as a marriage bell until Ahn's layer cake was passed. Reda, having already been helped to a bewildering variety, declined it. But Quark, seeing the disappointment on Ahn's face, said smilingly:  
  
"Oh, you must take a piece of this, Mrs. Chel. Ahn made it just for you."  
  
"In that case, I MUST sample it," laughed Reda, helping herself to a plump triangle, as did also her husband and Quark. Reda took a mouthful of hers and a most peculiar expression crossed her face; not a word did she say, however, but steadily ate away at it. Quark saw the expression and hastened to taste the cake.  
  
"Kor Ahn!" he exclaimed, "what in the universe did you put into this cake?"  
  
"Nothing but what the recipe said, Mr. Quark," cried Ahn with a look of anguish. "Oh, isn't it all right?"  
  
"All right...it's horrible! Don't anyone try to eat it. Ahn, taste it yourself. What did you put in this?  
  
"Vanilla," said Ahn, her face scarlet with mortification after tasting the cake. "Only the finest vanilla, straight from Earth. Oh, Mr. Quark, it must have been the baking powder. I had my suspicions of that bak-"  
  
"Baking powder my lobes! Go and bring me the bottle you used."  
  
Ahn fled to the pantry and returned with a small bottle partially filled with a yellowy brown liquid labeled, 'Vanilla.' Quark took it, uncorked it, smelled it.  
  
"Ahn, you've flavored that cake with MY EARACHE MEDICATION. I broke the bottle by accident and had to pour what was left into this old empty bottle here. I guess I should've told you, but for Nagus' sake why couldn't you have smelled it?"  
  
Ahn dissolved into tears under this double disgrace.  
  
"I couldn't...I had such a swollen nose!" and with this she fairly fled to her quarters, where she cast herself on the bed and wept as one who refuses to be comforted.  
  
Presently a light step sounded on the stairs and somebody entered the room.  
  
"Oh, Mr. Quark," sobbed Ahn, without looking up, "I'm disgraced forever. I shall never be able to live this down. It will get out...things always do get out on Deep Space Nine. Becky will ask me how my cake turned out and I shall have to tell her the truth. I shall always be pointed at as the girl who flavored a cake with ear medicine. Ev- the children in school will never stop laughing about it. Oh, Mr. Quark, if you have a spark of pity in you don't tell me that I must go back in after this. I'll return to clean up after the teacher and her husband are gone, but I cannot ever look them in the face again. Perhaps they think I tried to poison them. But that ear medicine isn't poisonous. It's meant to be taken internally, although not in cakes. Won't you tell them so, Mr. Quark?"  
  
"Suppose you jump up and tell her so yourself," said a merry voice.  
  
Ahn flew up, to find Mr. and Mrs. Chel standing by her bed, surveying her with laughing eyes.  
  
"My dear, you musn't cry like this," Reda said, genuinely disturbed by Ahn's tragic face.   
  
"Why, it's a mistake that anyone could make."  
  
"Oh, no, it takes me to make such a mistake," said Ahn forlornly. "And I wanted to have that cake so nice for you both."  
  
"Yes, we know, dear," Nami added. "And we assure you that we appreciate your kindness and thoughtfulness just as much as if it had turned out all right. Now, you mustn't cry any more, but come down with us to enjoy the rest of the dinner. Quark tells me you laid out all the decorations. I want to know how you did it, for I'm very much interested in flowers."  
  
Ahn permitted herself to be led down and comforted, reflecting that it was really providential that the Chels were kindred spirits. Nothing more was said about the medicine cake, and when the guests departed Ahn found that she had enjoyed the evening more than could have been expected, considering that terrible incident. Nevertheless, she sighed deeply.  
  
"Mr. Quark, isn't it nice to think that tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it yet?"  
  
"I'll bet you'll make up for it soon enough," said Quark. "I've never seen anyone with a streak like yours."  
  
"Yes, I know," admitted Ahn mournfully. "But have you ever noticed one encouraging thing about me? I never make the same mistake twice."  
  
- - - - -   
  
**EPISODE XVII  
Ahn Comes to Grief in an Affair of Honor**  
  
Almost a month had passed since the cake episode, time enough it seemed for Ahn to make whole new sets of mistakes, such as dropping a tray full of wine glasses in the bar and slamming into the abdomen of the Klingon Ambassador while turning the corner wrapped in an imaginative reverie.  
  
Then at school, there was news of another party.  
  
"Small and select," Ahn pointed out to Quark. "Just the honors students in our class."  
  
They had a very good time and, on the way home that evening, the students found themselves on the third level of the Promenade, full from all the cake and candy, and ripe for any enticing form of mischief which might present itself. This presently took the form of "daring."  
  
Daring was the current trend among the youth of Deep Space Nine. It began that spring among the boys, but soon spread to the girls, and by the end of the year the records of ridiculous things that resulted was enough to fill a library.  
  
First of all Rislan Dana dared Leslie Brooks to hop on her left leg once down the circular path without stopping once or putting her right foot to the ground. Miss Brooks gamely tried to comply, but gave out on the third attempt and had to confess herself defeated. Then Shidra Cadai dared Lee Han to eat a plate full of Klingon Serpent Worms. He did, albeit in mortal dread of the slithery long creatues who seemed to have neither a beginning nor an end.  
  
Lee's triumph being rather more pronounced than good taste permitted, Ahn dared him to ride the turbolift down while standing on his head. Now to ride a turbolift down while standing on your head with a full stomach requires more skill and steadiness of head and heel than one might suppose who has never tried it. Yet before Lee could answer to her challenge, a far more daring one had been posed.  
  
After looking to his left and his right, Alojza Schumann climbed on top of protective railing that bordered the edge of the Promenade. With both arms outstretched, he then took five steps forward. All the while, the expression on his face seemed to imply that a little thing like that wasn't even worth a "dare." Reluctant admiration greeted his exploit, for most of the other children could appreciate it, having suffered many things themselves in their efforts to balance. Alojza descended from the railing, flushed with victory, and darted a defiant glance at Ahn.

Ahn tossed her red braids.  
  
"I don't think that's such a very wonderful thing," she said. "Anyone can walk a straight line."

"I don't believe it," said Alojza flatly. "I don't believe just anybody could walk a railing that high. YOU couldn't, anyhow."  
  
"Oh, really?" Ahn blurted.  
  
"Then I dare you to do it," said Alojza defiantly. "I dare you to climb up there and walk the top of that railing five steps."  
  
Ahn turned pale, but there was clearly only one thing to be done. She walked toward the edge of the Promenade. After making sure no one else was around, she slowly climbed to the top of the railing. All the children said, "Oh!" partly in excitement, partly in dismay.  
  
"Don't do it, Ahn," Becky Peters cried. "You'll fall and break your neck!"  
  
"I must do it. My honor is at stake," said Ahn with determination. She looked down, then quickly looked back up.  
  
Even Tared Evron could not stand to see what was happening. "It isn't a fair contest, Ahn. Alojza's family is in the circus. He's been doing this since he could crawl!"  
  
"I shall walk those five steps, or perish in the attempt. If I am killed then let it be said that I'm not a coward."  
  
Ahn stretched out both arms, then took the first two steps amid breathless silence. After a pause, she took two more, balancing herself uprightly on that precarious footing. She was dizzily conscious of the fact that walking railings was not a thing in which your imagination helped you out much.  
  
Just as she was about to take that final step the catastrophe came. In one quick movement Ahn swayed, lost her balance, stumbled, staggered, and slipped. All the children could do is give a simultaneous, terrified shriek.  
  
If Ahn had fallen straight down, every bone in her small body would have shattered upon impact with the ground. But as she fell, Ahn had somehow managed to get caught in one of the huge cloth banners suspended from the ceiling. She dangled a few seconds by the waist before the fabric gave way, but the fall therefrom was a much less serious thing.  
  
Nevertheless, Becky, Evron and the other children rushed frantically to the lowest level - except Alojza Schumann, who remained as if rooted to the ground - they found Ahn lying all ashen and limp among the swirl of torn fabric and wires.  
  
"Ahn is dead!" shrieked Becky, falling on her knees beside her friend. "And now, she will haunt the Promenade!"  
  
To the immense relief of all the children, who, in spite of lack of imagination, had been seized with horrible visions of a future branded as murderers, Ahn sat dizzily up and answered uncertainly:  
  
"No, Becky, I am not dead, but I think I am rendered unconscious."  
  
"Where?" sobbed Rislan Dana. "Oh, where, Ahn?"  
  
Before Ahn could answer a security team appeared on the scene. At sight of the officers Ahn tried to scramble to her feet, but sank back again with a sharp cry of pain.  
  
"Are you kids crazy?" demanded one of the officers.  
  
"Oh my legs," gasped Ahn. "Sir, please contact Mr. Quark and ask him to bring me home. I know I can never walk there. And I'm sure I couldn't hop so far on one foot when Leslie couldn't even hop across the Promanade."  
  
Quark was in his quarters, adding up the day's profits, when Dr. Bashir summoned him to the Infirmary.  
  
As he entered, Security Chief Jackson and a whole procession of school children were crowded in the waiting room. The atmosphere was one of grim silence. At that very moment, Quark had a revelation. In the sudden stab of fear that pierced his heart he realized what Ahn had come to mean to him. He would have admitted that he liked Ahn - rather, that he was very fond of Ahn. But now he knew as he rushed into the treatment area that Ahn was more valuable to him than anything in this universe.  
  
"What's going on here?" he gasped, approaching the first bed. In it, Ahn lay, eyes closed and still. Her face was bruised, and there were casts on both her legs.  
  
Dr. Bashir pulled him to the side. "It seems that Ahn here fell from the third level of the Promenade. She's banged herself up quite a bit. She suffered a concussion, and she's broken both her legs."  
  
Quark let out a low moan. Just then, Ahn's eyes flew open. "Oh Mr. Quark," she whispered.

"Please don't cry. I will be all fixed in no time. We must look on the bright side of things. At least it wasn't my neck."  
  
"I should have known that you'd go and do something crazy," said Quark, drawing away in relief and disgust.  
  
All of a sudden, Ahn went completely limp. Overcome by the pain and embarassment, Ahn had fainted dead away.  
  
When Quark came to bring her home the next morning, a plaintive voice greeted him from the bed.  
  
"Aren't you very sorry for me in the least?"  
  
"It was your own fault," said Quark, folding his arms incredulously.  
  
"And that is just why you should be sorry for me," said Ahn, "because the thought that it is all my own fault is what makes it so hard. If I could blame it on anybody I would feel so much better. But what would you have done if you had been dared to walk the railing?"  
  
"I'd have stayed on good firm ground and let them dare away. Anyway, it's not like they offered you any money to do it!" said Quark.  
  
Ahn sighed.  
  
"But you have such strength of mind," Ahn said. "I haven't. I just felt that I couldn't bear everyone's scorn. This would have hung over me all my life. And I think I have been punished so much that you needn't be very cross with me. It's not very dignified to faint, after all. And it hurt dreadfully, even after Dr. Bashir fixed me up. I won't be able to go anywhere for three weeks and I'll miss the new teacher. She won't be new any more by the time I'm able to go to school. And Evr- everybody will get ahead of me in class. Oh, I am an afflicted mortal. But I'll try to bear it all bravely if only you won't be angry with me."  
  
"It's not that I'm angry," said Quark. "It's just that...oh, forget it. Let's go."  
  
"Isn't it fortunate I've got such an imagination?" said Ahn. "It will help me through splendidly, I expect. What do people who haven't any imagination do when they break their bones, do you suppose, Mr. Quark?"  
  
Ahn had good reason to bless her imagination many a time and oft during the tedious twenty-one days that followed. But she was not solely dependent on it. She had many visitors and not a day passed without one or more of her classmates dropping in to bring her flowers and books and tell her all the station happenings.  
  
"Everybody has been so good and kind, Mr. Quark," sighed Ahn happily, on the day when she could first limp across the floor. "It isn't very pleasant to be laid up; but there is a bright side to it. You find out how many friends you have. Why, even Vedek Moriel from the asylum sent me a message, and he's really a very fine man. Not quite a kindred spirit, of course; but still I like him and I'm awfully sorry I ever criticized his prayers. I told him how hard I tried to make my own little private prayers interesting. He told me all about the time he broke his ankle when he was a boy. It does seem so strange to think of Vedek Moriel ever being a boy. Even my imagination has its limits, for I can't imagine THAT. When I try to imagine him as a boy I see him with gray hair and wrinkles, just as he looked when I last saw him, only smaller. Now, it's much easier to imagine Commander Kira as a little girl. She has been to see me three times. Isn't that something to be proud of? When the station commander has so many claims on her time! She is such a cheerful person to have visit you, too. She never pointed her finger or said I was to blame for anything. Nurse Peters kept saying that when she came to see me; and she said it in a kind of way that made me feel she might hope I'd be a better girl but didn't quite really believe I would. Even Evr- even Evron came to see me. I received him as politely as I could, because even he tried to warn me. If I had been killed he too would have had to carry a dark burden of remorse all his life. Becky has been a faithful friend. She's been over every day to cheer my lonely pillow. But oh, I shall be so glad when I can go to school for I've heard such exciting things about the new teacher. The girls all think Mrs. Chel is perfectly sweet. Becky says she wears her hair in the most fascinating ways. Oh, and she has the class to write and put on plays. Oh, it's just glorious to think of it. Now, Becky's mother says she never heard of such goings on, but I think it's splendid and I believe even more that she is a kindred spirit."  
  
"One thing's for certain," Quark concluded as Ahn went on, "the fall hasn't injured her tongue at all."  
  
- - - - -   
  
**EPISODE XVIII  
The Play's Not the Thing**  
  
Once Ahn returned to school, she did indeed find in the new teacher another true and helpful friend.  
  
Mrs. Chel was a bright, sympathetic young woman with the gift of winning and holding the affections of her pupils and bringing out the best that was in them mentally and morally. Ahn expanded like a flower under this wholesome influence and carried home to Quark glowing accounts of schoolwork and aims.  
  
"I love Mrs. Chel with my whole heart, Mr. Quark. She has such a sweet voice. When she pronounces my name it is almost like a song. We had recitations this afternoon. I just wish you could have been there to hear me recite my scene from Shakespere's Hamlet. I just put my whole soul into it. Becky Peters told me coming home that the way I said the line, 'For in that sleep of death what dreams may come; when we have shuffled off this mortal coil; must give us pause,' just made her blood run cold."  
  
"Well, maybe you can recite more of it after the bar closes," suggested Quark.  
  
"Of course I will," said Ahn meditatively, "but I won't be able to do it so well, I know. It won't be as exciting as it is when you have a whole schoolful before you hanging breathlessly on your words. I know I won't be able to make your blood run cold."  
  
"Chief I'tanij said it made HER blood run cold to let you children come into Engineering for a tour last week," said Quark. "I guess Mrs. Chel encouraged Commander Kira to sign for it."  
  
"She thought it was a good idea for us to learn more about how the station works," explained Ahn.  
  
"That was on our field trip. Field trips are splendid, Mr. Quark. And Mrs. Chel explains everything so beautifully. We have to write reports on our field trips and I write the best ones."  
  
"It's very vain of you to say so then. You'd better let your teacher say it."  
  
"But she DID say it, Mr. Quark. And indeed I'm not vain about it. How can I be, when I'm such a dunce at calculus? Although I'm really beginning to see through it a little, too. Mrs. Chel makes it so clear. Still, I'll never be good at it and I assure you it is a humbling reflection. But I love writing reports. Usually, Mrs. Chel lets us choose our own subjects; but next week we are to write a report on some remarkable person. It's hard to choose among so many remarkable people who have lived. Mustn't it be splendid to be remarkable and have reports written about you after you're dead? Oh, I would dearly love to be remarkable. I think when I grow up I'll be a doctor in the Medical Corps and go with the soldiers to the fields of battle as a messenger of mercy. That is, if I don't go out as a missionary. That would be very romantic, but one would have to be very pious to be a missionary, and that would be a stumbling block. We have physical education every day, too. Mrs. Chel says that proper exercise makes one graceful and promotes long life."  
  
"Promote my lobes!" said Quark, who honestly thought it was all nonsense.  
  
But all the field trips and recitations and physical education paled before a project which Mrs. Chel assigned the next month. This was that the scholars of Deep Space Nine should put on a play and hold it in the Ampitheatre, for the purpose of uplifting station morale. The students one and all took graciously to the plan, and the preparations for a program were begun at once. And of all the excited performers-elect none was so excited as Kor Ahn, who threw herself into the undertaking heart and soul, hampered as she was by Quark's disapproval. He thought it all unprofitable foolishness.  
  
"It's just filling your head up with nonsense and taking time that should be spent working," he grumbled. "I don't approve of children making so much effort with no profit being gained."  
  
"But there is profit," pleaded Ahn. "Not in money, but in spirit. This concert will cultivate good-will."  
  
"Ha! There's little good-will in the thoughts of any of you. All you want is a good time."  
  
"Well, when you can combine good-will and fun, isn't that just fine? Of course it's real nice to be putting on a play. It is called "The Warrior King" and it is based on an ancient Andorian fairy tale. There will be five acts and Rislan Dana will be the director. I'm one of the actors. I just tremble when I think of it, but it's a nice thrilly kind of tremble. I'm going to go practice my lines in my room. Don't be alarmed if you hear me groaning. I have to groan wrenchingly in one of them, and it's really hard to get up a good artistic groan. William Toliver is angry because he didn't get the part he wanted. He wanted to be the warrior king. That would have been ridiculous, for who ever heard of a warrior king as short as William? Warrior kings must be tall and broad. B'Toreth is to be the warrior king and I am to be one of his ministers. William says he thinks a red-haired minister is just as ridiculous as a short warrior king, but I do not let myself mind what he says. I'm even to have a long robe. It's necessary for ministers to have long robes, you know. We are going to decorate the Ampitheatre with banners and we are all to march in two by two after the audience is seated, while Becky plays a march on the piano. Oh, Mr. Quark, I know you are not so enthusiastic about it as I am, but don't you hope your little Ahn will distinguish herself?"  
  
"I just hope that you behave yourself. I'll be glad when all this is over and you settle back down. You're no good to me while your head's stuffed full of dialogues and groans."  
  
Ahn sighed and went on with Quark as he locked up for the evening. " I guess it's going to be a big event," he said, turning off all the lights. And I know you'll do fine," he said, smiling down into her eager, vivacious little face. Ahn smiled back at him. "It'll be a wonder though," he thought to himself. "if after this your tongue won't be completely worn out."  
  
- - - - -   
  
**EPISODE XIX  
Quark and The Deal With The Dress**  
  
Quark was having a bad time of it. He had come home after work, with the intention of having a quiet night's rest, only to find Ahn and a bevy of her schoolmates having a practice of "The Warrior King" in the living room. Presently they were marching around the room, laughing and chattering gaily. They did not see Quark, who quickly shrank into the shadows beyond. He watched them quietly for the next ten minutes as they put on their capes and picked up their swords and talked about the dialogue and the concert. Ahn stood among them, bright eyed and animated as they; but Quark suddenly became conscious that there was something very different about her. And what worried Quark was that the difference impressed him as being something that should not exist. Ahn had a brighter face, and bigger, starrier eyes, and more delicate features than the other; even the usually unobservant Quark had learned to take note of these things; but the difference that disturbed him did not consist in any of these respects. Then in what did it consist?  
  
Quark was haunted by this question long after her schoolmates had gone, and Ahn had returned to her books. He didn't think he could talk with Nog about it. Besides, he'd probably say that the only difference there was between Ahn and the other girls was that they sometimes kept their tongues quiet while Ahn never did. This, Quark felt, would be no great help.  
  
He mulled over it for several hours, with the help of some beetle snuff and a few glasses of Sorian Brandy. Then, in a flash, Quark arrived at a solution. Ahn was not dressed like the other girls!  
  
The more Quark thought about the matter the more he was convinced that Ahn never really had been dressed like the other girls- never since she had come to Deep Space Nine. While he went about in expensive, brightly-patterned suits, Ahn's attire consisted of dull-colored dresses all in the same unvarying style. He recalled the cluster of little girls he had seen around her that evening- parading around in outfits of red and blue and pink and white and all sorts of patterns in between. He began to wonder why he had been keeping her so plainly and soberly garbed for so long.  
  
Of course, Quark's reasons were at first practical. He did not know he was getting a female, and he did not know how long she would stay. But it was well over a year now, high time to get the child a new wardrobe - dresses and boots like Becky Peters always wore. Quark decided that he would do this as a surprise. The play was only a fortnight off, and this would make a nice present for a job well done. Quark, with a sigh of satisfaction, went to bed, while Ahn studied in her room a few hours more.  
  
The very next morning Quark contacted several stores inside and outside the station. After much cogitation, Quark resolved to go local. In contrast, the Peters always had always ordered from Blair's Outfitters on Earth. But Quark held catalogs and sub-space ordering in mortal dread. Everything was done from a distance, there were no live clerks, and absolutely no negotiation over price. No, in matters such as these, requiring explanation and consultation, Quark needed to deal with a real live person behind a store counter. So he went to Hardeth's on level three, where the Bajoran owner or his son would wait on him.  
  
Alas! Quark did not know that the owner, in the recent expansion of his business, had hired a new lady clerk. She was a Klingon and a very dashing young person indeed, with wild wavy brown hair, and a most extensive smile. She was dressed with exceeding smartness and wore several bangle bracelets that glittered and rattled and tinkled with every movement of her hands. Quark was covered with confusion at finding her there at all; and those bangles completely wrecked his wits at one fell swoop.  
  
"What do you need, Ferengi?" the Klingon inquired, briskly and ingratiatingly, tapping the counter with both hands.  
  
"Have you any...any...any...self-sealing stembolts?" stammered Quark.  
  
The Klingon looked somewhat surprised, as well she might, to hear a man inquiring for self-sealing stembolts in a clothing store.  
  
"In case you haven't noticed," she replied bluntly. "this is a CLOTHING store."  
  
"I'm well aware of that," Quark shot back. "Ships stores are clean out. Would you happen to have some?"   
  
"We might have a few we could part with," she said, "but they're in the stockroom. I'll go and see."   
  
During her absence, Quark collected his scattered senses for another effort. When she returned with the bolts, she grudingly asked if there would be anything else. Quark took his courage in both hands and replied: "Well now, since you suggest it, I might as well... take...that is...look at...buy a...flux capacitor."  
  
The Klingon had once heard people refer to Quark as 'odd.' She now concluded that he was entirely crazy.  
  
"We are NOT a tool shop," she growled. "We are a CLOTHING store."  
  
"Oh, certainly...certainly...just as you say," stammered unhappy Quark, seizing the bolts and making for the door.  
  
It was several hours before Quark felt he was his own man again. It had been a gruesome experience, but it served him right, he thought, for committing the heresy of trying to buy children's clothing. When he reached the bar he tossed the bolts into a box behind the counter.  
  
"Self-sealing stembolts!" exclaimed Nog. "What do you need with those?"  
  
"Thought it might come in handy sometime," said Quark, making good his escape.  
  
When Quark came to think the matter over he decided that a younger mind was required to cope with the situation. To his nephew he turned accordingly, and he promptly took the matter out of his harassed uncle's hands.  
  
"Pick out a wardrobe for Ahn? Sure I guess. But I don't know why you just don't let her do it herself. Well, anyway, I'll see to it when I get off duty tomorrow. Have you something particular in mind? No? Well, I'll just go by my own judgment then."  
  
"Well now, that will be fine," said Quark, "and- I'd like- from what I've seen, girls like wearing things with all kinds of bright colors. If it wouldn't be asking too much- better get something bright."  
  
"Sure, Uncle Quark. I'll get all the latest fashions," said Nog. To himself he added when Quark had gone:  
  
"It'll be nice to see her wearing something decent for once. The way Uncle dresses her is a real shame, and I've been dying for him to do something about it."  
  
The day before the play, school was dismissed early. Ahn returned home to find an array of new outfits fanned out on her bed. At first, Ahn went from item to item, looking on in reverent silence. Oh, how pretty it all was - a fuschia print dress with ruffles and the gloss of silk; another dress embroidered at the collar and the edges; a purple jumpsuit for climbing and playing; even a warm velvety coat for trips away from the station.  
  
"That's a present for you, Ahn," said Quark almost shyly. "Well, don't you like it?"  
  
For Ahn's eyes had suddenly filled with tears.  
  
"Like it! Oh, Mr. Quark!" Ahn ran to him, clasping her hands. "It's perfectly exquisite. Oh, I can never thank you enough. Oh, it seems to me this must be a happy dream."  
  
Ahn went to hug him, but Quark quickly diverted her. " Well...uh...I'd better let you get ready for the play. "  
  
The play was performed that evening and was a pronounced success. The Ampitheatre was quite crowded, and all the performers did excellently well. Though Ahn was not the lead actor, to Quark, she was the bright particular star of the occasion.  
  
"Oh, hasn't it been a brilliant evening?" sighed Ahn, when it was all over and she and Becky were walking home together.  
  
"Everything went off very well," said Becky practically. "I guess we must have made an impression on everyone. Jake Sisko even said that he would put a good review in the paper."  
  
"Oh, Becky, will we really see our names in print? It makes me thrill to think of it. Your score was perfectly elegant, Becky. I felt prouder than you did when we were encored. I just said to myself, 'It is my dear bosom friend who is so honored.'"  
  
"Well, you just brought down the house, Ahn. That dying scene of yours was simply splendid."  
  
"Oh, I was so nervous, Becky. When Mrs. Chel motioned for me to go on I really cannot tell how I ever got up the courage. I felt as if a million eyes were looking at me and through me, and for one dreadful moment I was sure I couldn't begin at all. Then I thought of all the gifts I have received. I knew I had to live up to those gifts, Becky. So I started in, and my voice seemed to be coming from ever so far away. I just felt like a parrot. It's providential that I practiced my lines so often, or I'd never have been able to get through. Did I groan all right?"  
  
"Yes, indeed, you groaned lovely," assured Becky.  
  
"Dr. Bashir led a standing ovation when the curtains fell. It was splendid to think I had touched somebody's heart. It's so romantic to take part in the theatre, isn't it? Oh, it's been a very memorable occasion indeed."  
  
"Wasn't B'Toreth's dialogue gripping?" said Becky. "And Tared Evron was splendid. Ahn, I do think it's awful mean the way you treat him. Wait till I tell you. When you stepped out on the stage during the third act, one of the pins fell out of your hair. I saw Evron pick it up and put it in his breast pocket. There now. You're so romantic that I'm sure you ought to be pleased at that."  
  
"It's nothing to me what that person does," said Ahn loftily. "I simply never waste a thought on him, Becky."  
  
That night, Dr. Bashir stopped by Quark's quarters after Ahn had gone to bed.  
  
"Well now, Ahn did a spendid job this evening," he said.  
  
"Yes, she did," Quark proudly replied. "She's a bright child, and she looked real nice too. I've been kind of opposed to this play scheme, but I suppose there's no real harm in it after all. Anyhow, I was proud of Ahn tonight, although I'm not going to tell her so."  
  
"Well now, I was proud of her and I did tell her so before she went home," said Julian. "You know Quark, you really should start thinking more about her future. Soon enough, she's going to graduate from the station school. What will become of her then?"  
  
"There's plenty of time to think of that," said Quark. "I suppose when the time comes, she can get her own quarters here on the station and work for me full-time. If not, she may want to go one of the Bajoran universities. She could get a scholarship."  
  
"Or maybe she'll join Starfleet," Julian added.  
  
Quark shot him a deadly glance. "There's really no point in thinking about these kinds of things right now. Hard enough thinking about tomorrow as it is."  


  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Ahn of Deep Space Nine Episodes 20 to 23

**Ahn of Deep Space Nine**  
  
A fan-novel, based on _Anne of Green Gables_ by Lucy Maud Montgomery and _STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE.  
  
DISCLAIMER:_ This was written solely for the sake of fun. No money is being made here, and no copyright infringement is intended. Takes place after "What You Leave Behind," the final episode of _Deep Space Nine._

- - - - -   
  
**EPISODE XX  
The Story Club Is Formed**  
  
The youth of Deep Space Nine found it hard to return to the old routine. To Ahn in particular things seemed incredibly unpalatable compared to the goblet of excitement she had been sipping from for weeks. Could she go back to the former quiet pleasures of those faraway days before the play? At first, she told Becky, she did not really think she could.  
  
"I'm positively certain, Becky, that life can never be quite the same again as it was in days past," she said mournfully, as if referring to a period of at least fifty years back. "Perhaps after a while I'll get used to it, but I'm afraid the theatre spoils people for everyday life. I suppose that is why Mr. Quark disapproves of them. Mr. Quark is such a sensible person. It must be a great deal better to be sensible; but still, I don't believe I'd really want to be a sensible person, because they are so unromantic. Your mother says there is no danger of my ever being one, but you can never tell. I feel just now that I may grow up to be sensible yet. But perhaps that is only because I'm tired. I simply couldn't sleep last night for long. I just lay awake and imagined "The Warrior King" over and over again. That's one splendid thing about such affairs - it's so lovely to look back at them."  
  
Eventually, however, school slipped back into its old groove and took up its old interests. To be sure, the play left its mark. William Toliver and B'Toreth, who had quarreled over the lead role, no longer spoke to each other, and a polite association of eight months was dissolved. Rislan Dana and Lee Han did not speak for months, because as director, the former had told the latter that he sounded like a chicken whenever he spoke his lines. Finally, Tared Evron fought T'anik because the young Vulcan had said that Ahn's behavior since the play was "most illogical." Consequently, T'anik's best friend, Alojza Schumann, would not speak to Ahn the rest of the school year. With the exception of these trifling frictions, work in Mrs. Chel's little kingdom went on with regularity and smoothness.  
  
The weeks quickly slipped by, and the Bajoran winter was fast approaching. Mrs. Chel told the class that she was planning a field trip to the planet in order to see the first snows. She would have them write a composition titled "A Winter's Walk in the Woods," and it was vital for them to be observant.  
  
"I won't mind writing that composition when its time comes," sighed Becky over her lunch. "I can manage to write about the woods, but the one we're to hand in at the end of this week is terrible. The idea of Mrs. Chel telling us to write a story out of our own heads!"  
  
"Why, it's as easy as a wink," said Ahn.  
  
"It's easy for you because you have an imagination," retorted Becky, "but what would you do if you had been born without one? I suppose you have your composition all done?"  
  
Ahn nodded, trying hard not to look virtuously complacent and failing miserably.  
  
"I wrote it yesterday evening. It's called 'The Jealous Rival; or In Death Not Divided.' I read it to Mr. Quark and he said it was a bunch of nonsense. Then I read it to Cousin Nog and he said it was fine. That is the kind of critic I like. It's a sad, sweet story. I just cried like an infant while I was writing it. It's about two beautiful maidens who lived in the same village and were devotedly attached to each other. One had dark raven's hair and duskly flashing eyes. The other had silken brown hair and lilac eyes."  
  
"I never saw anybody with lilac eyes," said Becky dubiously.  
  
"Neither have I. I just imagined them. I wanted something out of the ordinary. That is one of the advantages of growing older. The scope of imagination widens."  
  
"Well, what became of the two maidens?" asked Becky, who was beginning to feel rather interested in their fate.  
  
"They grew in beauty side by side until they were sixteen. Then a handsome Prince came to their native village and fell in love with the lilac-eyed one. He saved her life when her riding hound ran wild with her in a carriage, and she fainted in his arms and he carried her home three miles; because, you understand, the carriage was all smashed up. I found it rather hard to imagine the proposal because I had no experience to go by. I asked Rislan Dana if she knew anything about how men proposed because I thought she'd likely be an authority on the subject, having so many sisters married. She told me she hid in the hall closet when Maleb Andes proposed to her sister Kalazar. She said that he told her that his father had given him the farm in his own name and then said, 'My love, will you come away with me. I believe it is our destiny.' And Kalazar said, 'Oh YES...NO...I DON'T know...let me see' and there they were, engaged as quick as that. But I didn't think that sort of a proposal was a very romantic one, so in the end I had to imagine it out as well as I could. I made it very flowery and poetical and the Prince went on his knees, although Dana says that is a human custom. The maiden accepted him in a speech a page long. I can tell you I took a lot of trouble with that speech. I rewrote it five times and I look upon it as my master-piece. The Prince gave her a latinum crown, for he was immensely wealthy. But then, alas, shadows began to darken over their path. The raven-haired maiden was secretly in love with the Prince herself and when the lilac- eyed maiden told her about the engagement she was simply furious, especially when she saw the crown. All affection turned to bitter hate and the raven-haired maiden vowed revenge. She pretended to be the lilac-eyed maiden's friend the same as ever. Then one evening, they were standing on the bridge over a rushing turbulent stream. Thinking no one else present, the raven-haired maiden pushed the lilac-eyed maiden into the rolling waters with a wild, mocking laugh. But the Prince saw it all and he at once plunged in to rescue her. But alas, he had forgotten he couldn't swim, and they were both drowned, clasped in each other's arms. Their bodies were washed ashore soon afterwards. They were buried in one grave and their funeral was most imposing, Becky. It's so much more romantic to end a story up with a funeral than a wedding. As for the raven-haired maiden, her hair immediately turned white from shock. She went insane with remorse and was shut up in a lunatic asylum. I thought that was a poetical retribution for her crime."  
  
"How perfectly lovely!" sighed Becky, who belonged to Nog's school of criticism. "I don't see how you can make up such thrilling things out of your own head, Ahn. I wish my imagination was as good as yours."  
  
"It would be if you'd only cultivate it," said Ahn cheeringly. "I've just thought of a plan, Becky. Let's you and me have a story club all our own and we can write stories for practice. I'll help you along until you can do them by yourself. You ought to cultivate your imagination, you know. Mrs. Chel says so. Only we must do it the right way."  
  
This was how the story club came into existence. It was limited to Becky and Ahn at first, but soon invitations were extended to Rislan Dana, Shidra Cadai, and B'Toreth. The club was kept secret - although Dana later suggested that a more open policy would attract others - and each member had to produce one story a week.  
  
"It's extremely interesting," Ahn told Quark. "Each of us has to read their own story out loud and then we talk it over. We are going to keep them all sacredly and have them to read to our descendants. We each write under a nom-de-plume. Mine is 'Nin-er.' All of us do pretty well. Dana is rather sentimental. She puts too much lovemaking into her stories and you know too much is worse than too little. Becky never puts any because she says it makes her feel so silly when she had to read it out loud. Shidra's stories are extremely sensible. B'Toreth puts too many honor killings into his. He says most of the time he doesn't know what to do with the people so he kills them off to get rid of them. I mostly always have to tell them what to write about, but that isn't hard for I've millions of ideas."  
  
"I think this story-writing business is the worst yet," scoffed Quark. "You'll get a pack of nonsense into your heads and waste time that could be put to profitable use. Reading stories is bad enough but writing them is worse."  
  
"But we're so careful to put a moral into them all, Mr. Quark," explained Ahn. "I insist upon that.

All the good people are richly rewarded and all the bad ones are suitably punished. I'm sure that must have a wholesome effect. The moral is the most important thing. Dr. Bashir says so. I read one of my stories to him and Counselor Dax and they both agreed that the moral was excellent. Only they laughed in the wrong places. I like it better when people cry. Becky almost always cries when I come to the pathetic parts. Becky wrote her Uncle Quinn about our club and he wrote back that we were to send him some of our stories. So we copied out four of our very best and sent them. He then wrote back that he had never read anything so funny in all his life. That kind of puzzled us because the stories were all very pathetic and almost everybody died. But I'm glad Mr. Peters liked them. It shows our club is doing some good in the universe. Mr. Peters says that ought to be our ultimate goal in life. I do really try to make it my goal but I forget so often when I'm having fun. I hope I shall be a little like Mr. Peters when I grow up. Do you think there is any prospect of it, Mr. Quark?"  
  
"Not likely," Quark answered. "I'm sure Mr. Peters was never such a silly, forgetful person as you are."  
  
"No; but he wasn't always so good as he is now either," said Ahn seriously. "He told me so himself...that is, he said he had a dreadful temper when he was a boy and was always getting into scrapes. I felt so encouraged when I heard that. Is it very wicked of me, Mr. Quark, to feel encouraged when I hear that other people have been bad and mischievous? Nurse Peters says it is. She says she always feels shocked when she hears of anyone ever having been naughty, no matter how small they were at the time. Nurse Peters says she once heard a Starfleet Captain confess that as a boy he stole a shuttle. Well, she never had any respect for that person again. Now, I wouldn't have felt that way. I'd have thought that it was real noble of him to confess it, and I'd have thought what an encouraging thing it would be for small children nowadays who do naughty things and are sorry for them to know that perhaps they may grow up to be Starfleet Commanders in spite of it. That's how I'd feel, Mr. Quark."  
  
"And do you know how I feel?" replied Quark. "I feel that it's time you headed to the bar to do your evening's work. You've already lost a big chunk of time with all this chattering about writings and prospects. Obviously, you need a refresher on the 195th Rule of Acquisition.*"  
  
"I know it by heart," Ahn sighed as she headed towards the door. "Work first, talk later."  
  
- - - - -  
  
**EPISODE XXI  
Vanity and Vexation of Spirit**  
  
Quark, heading for the bar early one weekend morning, felt a brightness within him that engulfed all feelings of worry and doubt. It was as if he'd broken the locks off the doors of the Divine Treasury. Perhaps the catalyst lay in the bar's higher-than-average weekly profit, or with his recent investment in a string of gourmet hasperat stands. But Quark was not given to subjective analysis of his thoughts and feelings. In his mind, there stood before him an endless expanse of shimmering latinum, of golden rectangular bricks stacked from floor to ceiling, of hulking guards, with massive weapons, rendered permanently unconscious. For whatever reason, the vault was open in Quark's mind, and his whole being was wrapped in a deep, primal gladness.  
  
From a few feet away, his eyes dwelt affectionately upon the source of his livelihood. As his gaze went from the blinking lights, to the dabo tables, Quark's thoughts turned to Ahn. He knew that when he came inside, she would already be preparing for the afternoon rush. There would be a table waiting, with a bowl of fresh tube grubs and a copy of the morning financial reports. Without that girl, he thought, success would not have been as meaningful. Yes, as long as the vault was open, he would make sure Ahn was there to hold open the burlap sack.  
  
Consequently, when Quark entered and found no sign of Ahn anywhere, he felt justly disappointed and irritated. He had told Ahn to be sure and have his breakfast at 08 00 hours but now he had to skip it and start setting things up himself.  
  
"I'll settle her when she gets here," Quark grumbled, as he pulled a chair down from the table, turning it to the floor with more force than was necessary.   
  
Nog strolled in and ordered a hot chocolate from the replicator. "I think she's off somewhere, writing stories or something, and just forgot the time."  
  
"She's got to be taught a lesson," Quark countered. "I don't care if her teacher says she shows 'great promise.' She may have promise, but I never know what kind of crazy stunt she'll pull next. Just as soon as she apologizes for one thing she goes and does something ten times worse."  
  
"Well now, I don't know," said Nog, who, being patient and wise and, above all, thirsty, had deemed it best to let Quark talk his wrath out unhindered, having learned by experience that he got through with whatever work was on hand much quicker if not delayed by untimely argument.   
  
"Maybe you're being to quick to judge, Uncle. Don't accuse her of something unless you know she actually did it. Maybe this can all be explained - I'm sure there's a reason behind all this."  
  
"She's supposed to be here this morning ," retorted Quark. "I doubt she'll be able to explain ANYTHING to my satisfaction. And I knew you'd take her side. But I'm responsible for her, not you."  
  
The bar was in the middle of an afternoon rush, and still no sign of Ahn darting off the turbolift, breath- less and repentant with a sense of neglected duties. Quark stood by the entrance grimly. He only moved after a customer complained about being unable to open his holosuite door. Reluctantly, Quark went upstairs and tried the access codes. When they failed, he had to resort to manual override. When the door finally slid back, he found Ahn in the corner. She sat on the floor, and the top of her head was covered with a large cloth towel.   
  
"I don't believe this," said astonished Quark, "have you been asleep the whole time?"  
  
"No," was the muffled reply.  
  
"Are you sick then?" Quark demanded.  
  
With a low moan, Ahn pulled the towel forward, completely covering her face.   
  
"No, please, Mr. Quark, go away and don't look at me. I'm in the depths of despair and I don't care who invented the warp drive or how many ways there are to avoid taxes or what poem I will recite for class next week. It simply doesn't matter now because I don't suppose I'll ever be able to go anywhere again. My life is finished. Please, Mr. Quark, go away and don't look at me."  
  
Quark stared at her, mystified.   
  
"Kor Ahn, what is wrong with you? What have you done? Get up now and tell me. Now, I said. What's going on here?"  
  
Ahn rose from the floor in despairing obedience.  
  
"Look at my hair," she whispered.  
  
Accordingly, Quark pulled the towel from her head and looked scrutinizingly at Ahn's hair, flowing in heavy masses down her back. It certainly had a very strange appearance.  
  
"What did you do to your hair? It's PURPLE!"  
  
To call it that was an insult to the color - it was more of a queer, dull, lifeless hue, with streaks here and there of the original red to heighten the ghastly effect. Never in his life had Quark seen anything so grotesque as Ahn's hair at that moment.  
  
"Yes, it's purple," moaned Ahn. "I thought nothing could be as bad as red hair. But now I know it's ten times worse to have purple hair. Oh, now you little know how utterly wretched I am."  
  
"I don't know how this happened, but I'm going to find out," said Quark. "Come and tell me just what you did. I knew that things have been going too good these past few weeks. Just what did you do to your hair?"  
  
"I dyed it."  
  
"Dyed it! Dyed your hair! What for?"  
  
"I thought it was worth while to get rid of my red hair. I counted the cost, Quark. Besides, I meant to be extra good in other ways to make up for it."  
  
"Well," said Quark sarcastically, "if I had hair, and wanted to dye it, I'd have picked a decent color at least. I wouldn't have gone for purple."  
  
"But I didn't mean to dye it purple, Mr. Quark," protested Ahn dejectedly. "I wanted turn my hair a beautiful raven black...the instructions positively assured me that it would. How could I doubt words, Mr. Quark? I know what it feels like to have your word doubted. And Chief Jackson says we should never suspect anyone of not telling us the truth unless we have proof that they're not. I have proof now...purple hair is proof enough for anybody. But I hadn't then and I believed every word printed in the instructions IMPLICITLY."  
  
"Instructions where? What are you talking about?"  
  
"The instructions on the box of dye. I bought the dye from an Orion peddler."  
  
"Kor Ahn, how many times have I told you to never let anyone in the bar when we're closed!"   
  
"Oh, I didn't let him in the bar. I remembered what you told me, and I went out, carefully shut the door, and looked at his things he set on the ground out side. He had a big bag full of very interesting things and he told me he was working hard to make enough money to bring his wife and children to the quadrant. He spoke so feelingly about them that it touched my heart. I wanted to buy something from him to help him in such a worthy goal. Then I saw the box of hair dye. The peddler said it was guaranteed to dye any hair a beautiful raven black and wouldn't wash off. In a flash I saw myself with beautiful raven-black hair and the temptation was irresistible. But the price of the bottle was two strips of latinum and I had only one left out of my allowance. I think the peddler had a very kind heart, for he said that, seeing it was me, he'd sell it for one strip and that was just giving it away. So I bought it, and as soon as he had gone I went back to the sink and applied it as the directions said. I used up the whole box, and oh, Mr. Quark, when I saw the dreadful color it turned my hair I repented of being so foolish, I can tell you. And I have been repenting ever since."  
  
"Well, I hope you learned your lesson," said Quark severely, "and that you've got your eyes opened to where your vanity has led you. I don't know what to do about it now. I guess you'd better give your hair a good washing and see if that will do any good."  
  
Accordingly, Ahn washed her hair, scrubbing it vigorously with several types of shampoo, but it made no difference. Of all the Orion's statements, it was the only one which had actually proven true.   
  
"Oh, Mr. Quark, what do I do?" questioned Ahn in tears. "I'll never live this one down. People may have forgotten my other mistakes - getting Becky drunk and falling from the top of the Promenade. But they'll never forget this. They will think I am not respectable. Oh, like the humans say, 'what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.' That is poetry, but it is also truth. And oh, how everyone will laugh! I CANNOT face them. I am the unhappiest girl on Deep Space Nine."  
  
Ahn's unhappiness continued for a week. During that time she wore a scarf over her head and shampooed her hair every day. Becky alone knew the fatal secret, but she promised solemnly never to tell, and it may be stated here and now that she kept her word. At the end of the week Quark said decidedly:  
  
"It's no use, Ahn. You should just cut it off and start over."  
  
Ahn's lips quivered, but she realized the bitter truth of his remarks. With a dismal sigh she went for the scissors.  
  
"Please cut it off, and get it over with. Oh, I feel that my heart is broken. This is such an unromantic affliction. The girls in books lose their hair in fevers or sell it to get money for some good deed, and I'm sure I wouldn't mind losing my hair in some such fashion half so much. But there is nothing comforting in having your hair cut off because you've dyed it a dreadful color, is there? I'm going to weep all the time you're cutting it off, if it won't interfere. It seems such a tragic thing."  
  
Ahn wept then, but later on, when she went upstairs and looked in the glass, she was calm with despair. Quark never had much dealings with hair, but he had done his work thoroughly and it had been necessary to trim the hair as closely as possible. The result was not becoming, to state the case mildly. Ahn promptly turned her face away from the mirror.  
  
"I'll never, never look at myself again until my hair grows," she exclaimed passionately.  
  
Then she turned to face the mirror again.  
  
"Yes, I will, too. I'd do penance for being wicked that way. I'll look at myself every time I come to my room and see how ugly I am. And I won't try to imagine it away, either. I never thought I was that vain about my hair, of all things, but now I know I was, in spite of its being red, because it was so long and thick. I expect something will happen to my nose next."  
  
Ahn's clipped head made a sensation in school the next day, but to her relief nobody guessed the real reason for it, not even Evron Tared, who, however, did not fail to inform Ahn that she looked like a perfect scarecrow.  
  
"I didn't say anything when he said that to me," Ahn confided that evening to Quark, who was lying on the sofa after one of his headaches, "because I thought it was part of my punishment and I ought to bear it patiently. It's hard to be told you look like a scarecrow and I wanted to say something back. But I didn't. I just gave him a scornful look and then I forgave him secretly. It makes you feel very virtuous when you forgive people, doesn't it? I mean to devote all my energies to being good after this and I shall never try to be beautiful again. Of course it's better to be good. I know it is, but it's sometimes so hard to believe a thing even when you know it. I do really want to be good, Quark, like you and Nog and Mrs. Chel, and grow up to be a credit to you. Becky says that when my hair begins to grow to tie a black velvet ribbon around my head with a bow at one side. She says she thinks it will be very becoming. But am I talking too much, Mr. Quark? Does it hurt your head?"  
  
"My head is better now. It was awful this afternoon, though. These headaches of mine are getting worse and worse. I'll have to see Doctor Bashir about them. As for your talking, I don't really mind - I've gotten so used to it."  
  
Which was Quark's way of saying that he liked to hear it.  
  
- - - - -   
  
**EPISODE XXII  
The Unfortunate Holosuite Maid**  
  
YOU must be Elaine, Ahn," said Becky. "I could never find the courage to float down there."  
  
"Nor I," said Rislan Dana, with a shiver. "I don't mind floating down when there's two or three of us together and we can sit up. It's fun then. But to lie down and pretend to be dead - I just couldn't. I'd truly die of fright."  
  
"Of course it would be romantic," conceded Shidra Cadai, "but I know that I couldn't keep still. I'd be popping up every minute or so to see where I was and if I wasn't drifting too far out. And you know, Ahn, that would spoil the effect."  
  
"But it's so ridiculous to have a redheaded Elaine," mourned Ahn. "I'm not afraid to float down and I'd love to be Elaine. But it's ridiculous just the same. You ought to be Elaine because your skin is pink and you have has such lovely long hair...Elaine had 'all her bright hair streaming down,' you know. And Elaine was the lily maid. Now, a red-haired Cardassian cannot be a lily maid."  
  
"Your complexion is just as nice as Shidra's," said Becky earnestly, "and your hair is much darker than it used to be before you cut it."  
  
"Oh, do you really think so?" exclaimed Ahn, flushing sensitively with delight. "I've sometimes thought it was myself, but I never dared to ask anyone for fear they'd tell me it wasn't. Do you think it could be called auburn now, Becky?"  
  
"Yes, and I think it's very pretty," said Becky, looking admiringly at the sleek shoulder-length strands slicked into a ponytail and held in place by a very jaunty black velvet ribbon and bow.  
  
They were in a holosuite, standing by the banks of an imaginary pond. A little headland fringed with birches ran out from the bank, and at its tip was a small wooden platform built out into the water, for the convenience of fishermen. But Ahn, Rislan and Shidra had no intention of catching holographic trout.   
  
Since Ahn's fall, Quark limited the time she spent roaming free on the station. When Ahn first learned of her curfew and restriction, she sat in her quarters and wept, not considering the romance of it all. She was consoled soon enough. Ahn was a young woman of thirteen, going on fourteen, and too mature for amusements such as running about on the Promenade. There were infinite and more fascinating adventures to be found in places like the bar's holosuites. With this program alone, the girls had already learned to pilot a little rowboat they had the computer conjure up.  
  
Now, it was Ahn's idea to dramatize Elaine. They were studying the classic Alfred Lord Tennyson poem in school that week, and the class had analyzed and parsed it and torn it to pieces in general until it was a wonder there was any meaning at all left in it for them, but at least the fair lily maid and Lancelot and Guinevere and King Arthur had become very real people to them, and Ahn was devoured by secret regret that she had not been born Human in the time of ancient Earth's Camelot. Those days, she said, were so much more romantic than the present.  
  
Ahn's plan was hailed with enthusiasm. The quartet had discovered that if the boat were pushed off from the landing place it would drift down with the current under the bridge and finally strand itself on another headland lower down which ran out at a curve in the pond. They had often gone down like this and nothing could be more convenient for playing Elaine.  
  
"Well, I'll be Elaine," said Ahn, yielding reluctantly, for, although she would have been delighted to play the principal character, yet her artistic sense demanded fitness for it and this, she felt, her limitations made impossible. "Dana, you must be King Arthur and Shidra will be Guinevere and Becky must be Lancelot. But first you must be the brothers and the father. We can't have the old dumb servitor because there isn't room for two in the boat when one is lying down. We must pall the barge all its length in blackest samite. That old black shawl of your mother's will be just the thing, Shidra."  
  
The black shawl having been procured, Ahn spread it across the floor of the boat and then lay down on the bottom, with closed eyes and hands folded over her chest.  
  
"Oh, she does look really dead," whispered Dana nervously, watching the still, grey little face under the flickering shadows of the birches. "It makes me feel frightened, girls. Do you suppose it's really right to act like this? My mother says that all this pretending is abominably wicked."  
  
"You shouldn't bring up your mother," said Ahn severely. "This happened over a millennia before she was born. Now Shidra, help me arrange this. It's silly for Elaine to be talking when she's dead."  
  
Shidra rose to the occasion. There was no cloth of gold for a coverlet, but a pale yellow knit blanket was an excellent substitute. A white lily was not obtainable just then, but the effect of a tall blue iris placed in one of Ahn's folded hands was all that could be desired.  
  
"Now, she's all ready," said Shidra. "We must kiss her quiet brows and, Becky, you say, 'Sister, farewell forever,' and Dana, you say, 'Farewell, sweet sister,' both of you as sorrowfully as you possibly can. Ahn, for goodness sake smile a little. You know Elaine 'lay as though she smiled.' That's better. Now send the boat off."  
  
The boat was accordingly pushed off, scraping roughly over an old embedded stake in the process. Becky and Shidra and Rislan only waited long enough to see it caught in a current and headed for the bridge before scampering up through the woods, across the road, and down to the lower headland where, as Lancelot and Guinevere and the King, they were to be in readiness to receive the lily maid.  
  
For a few minutes Ahn, drifting slowly down, enjoyed the romance of her situation to the full. Then something happened not at all romantic. The boat began to leak. In seconds it was necessary for Elaine to scramble to her feet, pick up her gold coverlet and pall of blackest samite and gaze blankly at a big crack in the bottom of her barge through which the water was literally pouring. That sharp stake at the landing had torn off the strip of batting nailed on the boat. Ahn did not know this, but it did not take her long to realize that she was in a dangerous plight. At this rate the boat would fill and sink long before it could drift to the lower headland. Where were the oars? Left behind at the landing!   
  
Ahn gasped in surprise, but did not panic. Standing up, she promptly called for the computer to end the program. But instead of dissolving to bare walls and floor, the space around her flickered, then returned. Ahn then gave one gasping little scream which nobody ever heard; she was white to the lips, but she did not lose her self-possession. There was only one other chance - just one.  
  
"I was horribly frightened," she told Quark and Nog the next day. "It seemed like years while the rowboat was drifting down to the bridge and the water rising in it every moment. I prayed, most earnestly, but I didn't shut my eyes to pray, for I knew the only way to be saved was to let the boat float close enough to one of the bridge piles for me to climb up on it. You know the piles are just old tree trunks and there are lots of knots and old branch stubs on them. It was proper to pray, but I had to do my part by watching out and right well I knew it. I just said, 'Great Prophets, Divine Treasurer, and other great deities. Please bring me close to a pile and I'll do the rest,' over and over again. Under such circumstances you don't think much about making a flowery prayer. But mine was answered, for the boat bumped right into a pile for a minute and I flung the blanket and the shawl over my shoulder and scrambled up on a big providential stub. And there I was, clinging to that slippery old pile with no way of getting up or down. It was a very unromantic position, but I didn't think about that at the time. You don't think much about romance when you have just escaped from a watery grave. I said a grateful prayer at once and then I gave all my attention to holding on tight, for I knew I should probably have to depend on the aid of others in order to get back to dry land."  
  
The boat drifted under the bridge and then promptly sank in midstream. Dana, Shidra, and Becky, already awaiting it on the lower headland, saw it disappear before their very eyes and had not a doubt but that Ahn had gone down with it. For a moment they stood still, color drained from their faces, frozen with horror at the tragedy; then, shrieking at the tops of their voices, they started on a frantic run out the holosuite doors. Meanwhile, Ahn, clinging desperately to her precarious foothold, saw their flying forms and heard their shrieks. Help would soon come, but meanwhile her position was a very uncomfortable one.  
  
The minutes passed by, each seeming an hour to the unfortunate holosuite maid. Why didn't somebody come? Where had her friends gone? Suppose they had fainted, one and all! Suppose nobody ever came! Suppose she grew so tired and cramped that she could hold on no longer! Ahn looked at the wicked green depths below her, wavering with long, oily shadows, and shivered. Her imagination began to suggest all manner of gruesome possibilities to her.  
  
Then, just as she thought she really could not endure the ache in her arms and wrists another moment, Tared Evron came rowing under the bridge in a small boat of his own!  
  
Evron glanced up and, much to his amazement, beheld a little grey scornful face looking down upon him with big, frightened but also scornful blue eyes.  
  
"Kor Ahn! How DID you get there?" he exclaimed.  
  
Without waiting for an answer he pulled close to the pile and extended his hand. There was no help for it; Ahn, clinging to Evron Tared's hand, scrambled down into the boat, where she sat, drabbled and furious, in the stern with her arms full of dripping shawl and wet blanket. It was certainly extremely difficult to be dignified under the circumstances!  
  
"So, what happened, Ahn?" asked Evron, taking up his oars.  
  
"We were playing Elaine" explained Ahn frigidly, without even looking at her rescuer, "and I had to drift down to Camelot in the barge...I mean the boat. The boat began to leak. I tried to turn off the program but it wouldn't listen to me. So, I climbed out on that pile there. The girls went for help. Will you be kind enough to row me towards solid ground?"  
  
Evron obligingly rowed to the landing and Ahn, disdaining assistance, sprang nimbly on shore.  
  
"I'm very much obliged to you," she said haughtily as she turned away. But Evron had also sprung from the boat and now laid a detaining hand on her arm.  
  
"Ahn," he said hurriedly, "look here. Can't we be friends now? I'm awfully sorry I made fun of your hair that time. I only meant it as a joke. Besides, it happened so long ago. I think your hair is awfully pretty now...honest I do. Let's you and me be friends."  
  
For a moment Ahn hesitated. She had an odd, newly awakened consciousness under all her outraged dignity that the half-shy, half-eager expression in Evron's dark eyes was something that was very good to see. Her heart gave a quick, queer little beat. But the bitterness of her old grievance promptly stiffened up her wavering determination. That scene from years before flashed back into her recollection as vividly as if it had taken place yesterday. Evron had called her "spoonhead" and had brought about her disgrace before the whole school. Her resentment, which to other and older people might be as laughable as its cause, was in no whit allayed and softened by time seemingly. She hated Evron Tared! She would never forgive him!  
  
"No," she said coldly, "I shall never be friends with you, Tared Evron; and I don't want to be!"  
  
"All right!" Evron sprang into his skiff with an angry color in his cheeks. "I'll never ask you to be friends again, Kor Ahn. And guess what? I don't care either!"  
  
He pulled away with swift defiant strokes, and Ahn went up the steep, ferny little path under the maples. She held her head very high, but she was conscious of an odd feeling of regret. She almost wished she had answered Evron differently. Of course, he had insulted her terribly, but still... altogether, Ahn rather thought it would be a relief to sit down and have a good cry. She was really quite unstrung, for the reaction from her fright and cramped clinging was making itself felt.  
  
Halfway up the path she met Dana, Shidra, and Becky rushing back into the holosuite in a state narrowly removed from positive frenzy. Quark was nowhere to be found, and the bartenders had ignored their pleas, stating that they didn't have time for the pranks of silly little fe-males.   
  
"Oh, Ahn," gasped Becky, fairly falling on the former's neck and weeping with relief and delight, "Ahn...we thought...you had...drowned...and that we were murderers...because we made...you be...Elaine...oh, Ahn, how did you escape?"  
  
"I climbed up on one of the piles," explained Ahn wearily, "and Evron came along and brought me to land."  
  
"How did Evron get in here?" asked Shidra.  
  
"Does it really matter?" said Becky. "Oh, Ahn, how splendid of him! Why, it's so romantic! Of course you'll speak to him after this."  
  
"Of course I won't," flashed Ahn, with a momentary return of her old spirit. "And I don't want ever to hear the word 'romantic' again, Becky. I'm awfully sorry you were so frightened, girls. It's all my fault. I feel sure I was born under an unlucky star. Everything I do gets me or my dearest friends into a scrape. We've gone Becky, and I have a presentiment that we'll not be allowed use of the holosuites any more."  
  
Ahn's presentiment proved more trustworthy than presentiments are apt to do. Great was the consternation in the girls' households when the events of the afternoon became known.  
  
"Will you ever acquire some sense, Ahn?" groaned Quark.  
  
"Oh, yes, I think I will, Mr. Quark," returned Ahn optimistically. A good cry, indulged in the grateful solitude of her quarrters, had soothed her nerves and restored her to her wonted cheerfulness. "I think my prospects are brighter now than ever."  
  
"I don't see how," said Quark.  
  
"Well," explained Ahn, "I've learned a new and valuable lesson today. Ever since I came to Deep Space Nine I've been making mistakes, and each mistake has helped to cure me of some great shortcoming. The affair of the cherry cola taught me to check what's in the bottle. The Haunted Turbolift mistake cured me of letting my imagination run away with me. The ear medicine in the cake mistake cured me of carelessness in cooking. Dyeing my hair cured me of vanity. I never think about my hair now - at least, very seldom. And today's mistake is going to cure me of being too romantic. I have come to the conclusion that it is no use trying to be romantic on this station. It was probably easy enough in towered Camelot a millennia ago, but romance isn't appreciated now. I feel quite sure that you will soon see a great improvement in me in this respect, Mr. Quark."  
  
"I'm sure I hope so," said Quark skeptically.  
  
But Nog, who had been sitting mutely in the corner, laid a hand on Ahn's shoulder when his uncle had left the room.  
  
"Don't give up all your romance, Ahn," he whispered shyly, "a little can be a good thing...not too much, though...just a little...a little can go a long way."

- - - - -

**EPISODE XXIII  
An Epoch in Ahn's Life**

When Quark was called to a late evening meeting, Ahn was left to help close the bar. Since business had been slow the past few hours, the Dabo girls suggested she head home. But Ahn, ever the dedicated worker, insisted on doing her share. She helped the waiters clear the tables, and the girls lock the latinum in the safe. Then she swept the floors and powered down the holo-suites. She even got Morn to voluntarily vacate his beloved seat.

The atmosphere was relaxed, with talk ranging from alien jokes to station gossip. After little more than an hour, the weary workers filed out onto the Promenade. With pats on the shoulder and friendly "see you tomorrows," they scattered in different directions. Ahn headed to a turbolift alone. As it zipped towards the Habitat Ring, she sighed contentedly and closed her eyes. She thought of a rhyme Quark taught her during that first month on the station:

"Work is not easy. Work is not fun. But if you want profit, work has to be done."

When she opened her eyes, the doors had opened, and Nog was standing on the other end. He was dressed in his night clothes, with a look on his face so urgent that Ahn instantly divined there was news to be told. But betray too eager curiosity she would not.

"Isn't this evening just like a dream, cousin? It makes me so glad to be alive. In the mornings I always think the mornings are best; but when evening comes I think it's lovelier still."

"It's a very fine evening," said Nog, "but oh, do I have some great news. Guess. I'll give you two chances."

"You got promoted," cried Ahn.

Nog shook his head. "Nono. This has more to do with you."

"Well I can't think of what it could be," Ahn insisted, "unless I got those roller-skates I've been asking for. Oh did I?"

"Even better," exclaimed Nog. "I spoke with Moogie today, and she says she's dying to meet you. She invited us all to Ferenginar to visit. What do you think of that!"

"Oh, Cousin," whispered Ahn, finding it necessary to lean back against the wall for support. "Is it really true? But I'm afraid Mr. Quark won't allow it. These days, he barely lets me walk the station alone, let alone leave it. Why, last month Becky invited me to go with her to New Bajor. She was going to visit her Uncle Quinn. If you recall, I had become rather good friends with him, and I wanted to go, but he said I'd be better off at home working. I was bitterly disappointed. I felt so heartbroken that I refused to read the fifth chapter of the Tenants of Commerce before going to bed. But I repented and got up in the middle of the night and did it."

"Don't worry," said Nog, "This is Ishka we're talking about...his OWN MOTHER. She'll be able to convince him. Even if he doesn't go, he'll have to let you. And I'd be coming too. We'll have the time of our lives. You know I haven't been back to Fereginar since my father became Nagus, and my mother thinks I'm deliberately trying to avoid her. Making matters worse, the waiters seem to go every single year. It's so aggravating to hear them talk about it."

"I'm not going to think about it at all until I know whether I can go or not," said Ahn resolutely. "If I did and then was disappointed, it would be more than I could bear. But in case I do go I'm very glad that my new coat will be ready by then. Mr. Quark didn't think I needed a new coat. He said though my old one was a bit tight, it would do for another season and that I ought to be satisfied with having some new dresses. Mr. Quark lets me choose my own clothes now, because he says he doesn't intend to spend the rest of his life dressing me. I'm so glad. It is so much easier to be good if you can make some decisions on your own. At least, it is easier for me. I don't know if it makes such a difference to other young people. As for the coat, the Klingon saleslady INSISTED I have a new one, so Mr. Quark ended up ordering one. It's to be done tomorrow afternoon, and I'm trying not to imagine myself boarding the shuttlecraft in my new red dress and coat, because I'm afraid it isn't right to imagine such things. But it just slips into my mind in spite of me. Of all the dresses I picked, the red one is the prettiest. It is one of those velvet ones that are all the rage on Bajor, with gold trim and long flared sleeves. I see you have new nightclothes, cousin, and they are quite elegant. A lot of people would not dare come onto the station wearing what they sleep in, but when I saw you standing there, it didn't look at all improper. Do you suppose it's wrong for us to think so much about our clothes? Mr. Quark says it's a huge waste of time. But it's such an interesting subject, isn't it?"

Quark said he didn't have time to go on vacation, but he agreed to let Nog take Ahn. Since the only vessel headed to that sector was a small Vulcan transport, it was necessary to make an early start. But Ahn counted it all joy, and was up at 05 00 hours on the appointed day. An inquiry from the computer revealed that the vessel, the T'Purek, was already docked on the lower ring.

Ahn was dressed by the time Nog arrived. They stopped at the Replimat for breakfast, but for her own part was much too excited to eat. After breakfast, they stopped by the bar to say goodbye, then they were on their way.

It was a long trip on board the T'Purek, made even longer by bland food and blander crewmembers. Once on Ferenginar however, things became much more interesting. Though lacking in warmth and bright blue skies, Ahn thought the world had its own special charm. Indeed, she delighted in riding over the moist roads as seldom-seen sunlight crept across brown shorn fields.

The air was cool and foggy, and little smoky mists curled through the valleys and floated off from the hills. Sometimes the road went through woods where hizmat trees were beginning to hang out greenish banners; sometimes it crossed rivers on bridges that made Ahn's flesh cringe with the old, half-delightful fear; sometimes it wound along a commerce strip, filled with clusters of stores and trading houses; again it mounted to hills whence a far sweep of curving upland or greyish sky could be seen; but wherever it went there was much of interest to discuss. It was late afternoon on the fourth day when they finally reached the capitol city. 

First, Nog went to visit his mother, Prinadora. He had been to see her only a few times since she divorced his father some eighteen years before. While divorce is fairly common on Fereginar, Rom and Prinadora's case was considered the scandal of its day. Ferengi custom dictates that the male be awarded all assets, while the female only be paid a small monthly stipend. But with the help of a shrewd attorney, Prinadora managed to take everything from Rom except his son and the clothes on his back. She married said attorney shortly afterwards, and bought him a fashionable four-story townhouse. Ahn found Prinadora to be a slim, shrill voiced, scantily dressed woman, who didn't stop crying from the time Nog entered the door. "You could've been a PRINCE," she wailed. "But instead you wear that silly uniform and cavort with Hew-mans and Cardassians...no offense little girl."

"None taken," Ahn muttered, teeth clenched.

Their visit with Prinadora was blessedly short. Before nightfall, Nog and Ahn were making their way up the stairs of an old mansion, set back from the street behind gates covered in deep-burgundy vines. Moogie met them at the door with a twinkle in her large, sharp eyes.

"So you've come to see me at last, you Ahn-girl," she said. "Oh, what a sight! You're taller than I expected, too. And you're ever so much better looking than what my Quark described. But I dare say you know that without being told."

"Indeed I didn't," said Ahn radiantly. "I know I'm not so pale as I used to be, so I've much to be thankful for, but I really hadn't dared to hope there was any other improvement. I'm so glad you think there is, ma'am."

Moogie's house was furnished with great magnificence. There was a definite advantage to having been girlfriend of the late former Nagus and mother of the current one. The young Cardassian girl was rather abashed by the splendor of the residence where she and Nog would spend the next several days.

"Look at this parlor," Ahn whispered, coming through the entranceway. "There are patterns in the carpet, and carvings on the walls. And these curtains...they are so many colors all rolled into one. It is like having a rainbow inside your house. I never was in such a place before. I'd no idea it was so grand. I just wish Alojza Schumann could see this...he puts on such airs about his grandmother's estate on Earth."

"Moogie's made some changes," Nog noted, "This place was something when I was little, but now it's even more so. As much as I like it, I don't believe I could stay in a place like this every day of my life. I'd be too afraid of making a mess."

"I'd have to agree," Ahn said. "Besides, there are so many splendid things in this room that there is no scope for imagination. That is one consolation when you are poor...there are so many more things you can imagine about."

Their sojourns into town was something that Ahn spoke fondly of for many years. First, Moogie woke them at dawn, and took them to the Exhibition grounds for the day.

"It was splendid," Ahn related to Quark later. "I never imagined anything so interesting. I don't really know which display was the most interesting. I think I liked the jewelry the best. There was an ancient Herbitian tiara made from pure jevonite. They say it once belonged to a Cardassian princess. I never knew there were once princesses on Cardassia. I learn something new every day. The second best thing was the hovercar contest. A Mr. Zodor took first prize for his vintage Nebular racer, but Nog said that the only reason he won was because he bribed the judge. Nebulars are nowhere near as fast as Jupiters or even Andromedas. I wouldn't know though, I'd never even seen a hovercar until that day. How about you?"

"There must have been thousands of people there, Mr. Quark, but hardly any women. It made me feel dreadfully insignificant. And then Moogie...she said I must call her that...took us up to the grandstand to see the groundbeasts race. Cousin Nog wouldn't go; he believes racing animals is cruel and, as a Starfleet officer, thought it his bound duty to stay away. But there were so many people there I don't believe his absence was ever noticed. I don't think, though, that I ought to go very often to these races, because they can be TOO fascinating. Moogie got so excited that she offered to bet me 5 strips of latinum that the brown-striped beast would win. I didn't believe it would, but I couldn't bet anyway, because I had forgotten all my money back at the station. And to think, I had thought myself entirely prepared to make this trip. In the end, I'm glad I didn't bet, because that beast DID win, and I would have lost most of my savings. So you see that virtue was its own reward. We also saw a machine that sold fortunes. You dropped a coin in and a paper came out telling your fortune for you. Nog said it was a waste of money, but Moogie went ahead and gave me a coin. The machine said I would marry a large-lobed man who was very wealthy, and I would go across the water to live. I looked carefully at all the large-lobed men I saw after that, but I didn't care much for any of them, and anyhow I suppose it's too early to be looking out for him yet. Oh, it was a never-to-be-forgotten trip, Mr. Quark. When evening came, I was so tired that I couldn't sleep. Moogie put me in my very own guest room. It was an elegant room, but somehow sleeping there wasn't quite what I expected it to be. That's the worst part of growing up, and I'm beginning to realize it. The things you wanted so much when you were a child don't seem half so wonderful to you when you get them."

Finally, Nog brought Ahn to the palace to meet his father, Grand Nagus Rom. Ahn had been duly inspired when she first heard about him. Indeed, the life of Quark's brother was a strange mix of determination and luck. Due to his small ears, Rom was taught from childhood that he must take a lower place in society. Because of foolish superstition, everyone assumed that he lacked drive and intelligence. It was many years before he learned the error of such thinking. Once Rom began to believe in himself, others began to believe in him as well. It was that determination, that willingness to change, that helped Rom become a leader.

Though the business of ruling an empire was never-ending, Rom and his wife, a bubbly Bajoran named Leeta, took time out to hold a dinner in their honor. To Ahn the entire evening was a glittering vision of delight.

"Oh, Mr. Quark, it was beyond description. I was so excited I couldn't even talk, so you may know what it was like. I just sat in the dining hall in enraptured silence. Nagus Rom was very dignified, and Leeta was perfectly beautiful, dressed all in brocade with dangling earrings. After dinner, the adults all took part in a game of Tonga. Of all the players, Leeta was the most skillful. She bid it out against the others for hours, until they finally lost all their chips. At that moment, I felt like I do when I look up to the stars. Tears came into my eyes, but, oh, they were such happy tears. I was so sorry when it was all over, and I told Leeta that I didn't see how I was ever to return to common life again. She said she thought if we discussed it more over sugared tubers it might help me. It sounded odd, but to my surprise I found it true. The tubers were delicious, Mr. Quark, and it was so lovely and dissipated to be sitting there eating it at such a late hour. Leeta said she believed in destiny, and hers was to be First Lady of Ferenginar. Then she asked me what I thought my destiny was. I said I would have to think it over very seriously before I could give her an answer. So I thought it over after I went to bed. That is the way to think things out. And I came to the conclusion, Mr. Quark, that I wasn't destined for such a life and that I was glad of it. It's nice to be eating sugared tubers in a palace one in a while; but as a regular thing I'd rather be on the station, asleep in my own bed, but kind of knowing even in my sleep that the stars are but a glance away. I told Leeta so at breakfast the next morning and she laughed. I found that Leeta generally laughed at all I said, even when I said the most solemn things. I don't think I liked it that time because I wasn't trying to be funny. But, all in all, she was a most hospitable lady and I was treated most royally."

The day after that signaled the end of their visit. The return trip, however, was going to be much more comfortable. Instead of hitching a ride on some tiny space bucket, they were going back in one of the Imperial Transports. Moogie and the Nagus both came to see them off.

"I'm sorry we didn't have more time together, but I hope you both enjoyed yourselves," Rom said.

"We certainly have," said Nog. "And we promise to come back again soon ...with Quark."

"So what did you think of us, Ahn-girl?" asked Moogie.

"I've enjoyed every minute." said Ahn, throwing her arms impulsively about the old woman's neck and kissing her wrinkled cheek. If Quark were present, he would never have dared to do such a thing and would've been aghast at Ahn's impulsiveness. But Moogie was pleased, and she stood waving and watched as the transport lifted out of sight. After saying goodbye to her son and his wife, she headed back to her own secluded home. Once back in her parlor, she began to feel a sting of loneliness. She was truly surprised by her reaction. Like all Ferengi, Moogie had a xenophobic streak. If the truth must be told, she had never cared much for otherworlders at all. She valued them only as they were of service to her or amused her. Though she was not a blood relative, Ahn had secured a place in the old lady's heart. Moogie found herself dwelling less on Ahn's race and more on her fresh enthusiasms, her transparent emotions, her little winning ways, and the sweetness of her eyes and lips.

"I first thought my Quark was a complete fool when I heard that he'd adopted a girl out of an orphan asylum," she said to herself, "but I guess he didn't make such a big mistake after all. If I'd had a child like Ahn around here, perhaps MY life would be a bit more interesting."

Ahn found the trip home much more pleasant - not only because of the surroundings - but also because there was the delightful consciousness of what was awaiting her. It was late afternoon when the transport finally docked.

"Oh, it's good to be alive and HOME," breathed Ahn, as the airlock doors opened.

Nog stayed behind to retrieve their bags while Ahn ran blithely onto the Promenade. She didn't stop running until she entered the bar. There, she found a hot meal already waiting at a front table.

"So you're back?" said Quark matter-of-factly. He stood behind the counter, pouring a drink for a customer.

"Yes, and oh, it's so good to be back," said Ahn joyously. "I could kiss everything, even the metal floors. Oh, hasperat! You got it just for me?"

"Yes, I did," said Quark. "I thought you'd be hungry since those transports serve the worst food. Put your things down and eat before it gets cold. I'm glad you made it back in one piece. I admit, it's been kind of lonely here without you."

After eating, Ahn joined Quark by the counter, where she gave him a full account of the visit.

"I had a splendid time," she concluded happily, "and all your family is just the best. I feel that this trip marked an epoch in my life. But the best part of all turned out to be the coming home."

  
  
  
  



	6. Ahn of Deep Space Nine Episodes 24 to 26

**Ahn of Deep Space Nine**  
  
A fan-novel, based on _Anne of Green Gables_ by Lucy Maud Montgomery and _STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE.  
  
DISCLAIMER:_ This was written solely for the sake of fun. No money is being made here, and no copyright infringement is intended. Takes place after "What You Leave Behind," the final episode of _Deep Space Nine._  
- - - - -

**EPISODE XXIV  
The University Class Is Assembled**

Quark was in his quarters, lying face-up on the living room couch. He was biting at his lip, and his hands were pressed to the corners of his eyes. His vision had been growing blurry as of late, and he thought vaguely that he must ask Dr. Bashir about it the next time he went in.

It was late afternoon on the station, and Quark had slipped away for a short nap. Instead of helping out at the bar, Ahn had come home right after school. She had to finish reading 'Sense and Sensibility' by tomorrow, but had barely made it halfway through.  
Ahn sat at the dining-room table, gazing out at the pure joyous glow of a hundred million stars. She had been reading, but her datapadd had slipped to the floor, and now she was dreaming, with a smile on her parted lips. Vast English landscapes and ladies dressed in crisp long gowns were shaping themselves out of the mists and rainbows of her lively fancy; adventures wonderful and enthralling were happening to her in cloudland - adventures that always turned out triumphantly and never involved her in scrapes like those of actual life.

When Quark awoke, he looked at her with a tenderness that would never have been suffered to reveal itself in any clearer light than that soft mingling of starshine and shadow. The lesson of a love that should display itself easily in spoken word and open look was one Quark could never learn. But he had learned to love this Cardassian girl with an affection all the deeper and stronger from its very undemonstrativeness. Her love made him afraid of being unduly indulgent, indeed. He had an uneasy feeling against setting his heart so intensely on any female as he had set his on Ahn, and perhaps he performed a sort of unconscious penance for this by being stricter and more critical than if the female had been less dear to him. Certainly Ahn herself had no idea how Quark loved her. Sometimes, she thought that Quark was very hard to please and distinctly lacking in sympathy and understanding. But she always checked the thought reproachfully, remembering what she owed to him.

"Ahn," said Quark abruptly, "You know Mrs. Chel contacted me yesterday."

Ahn came back from her other world with a start and a sigh.

"Did she? Oh, well...I can't imagine why. I hope it isn't because of my studies. I know I am a bit behind in my reading, but I am trying to catch up. Becky and I have been going to read under the trees in the Arboretum. It's lovely in there now. The Bolian ferns have curled under and gone into hibernation, just as if somebody had tucked them away until next season. Perhaps an unseen spirit extended its veil when it felt the time was right. Becky wouldn't say much about that, though. Becky has never forgotten the scolding her mother gave her about imagining spirits in the turbolift. It had a very bad effect on Becky's imagination. It blighted it. Rislan Dana says that Mr. Kretak is a blighted being. I asked her what that meant, and she said that it was because N'arelta is now engaged to the son of an Andorian ambassador. Lately, all Rislan Dana thinks of is getting a boyfriend, and the older she gets the worse she is. Boyfriends are all very well in their place, but it doesn't do to drag them into everything, does it? Becky and I are thinking seriously of promising each other that we will never marry but be nice old maids and live together forever. Becky hasn't quite made up her mind though, because she thinks perhaps it would be nobler to marry some wild, dashing, wicked space pirate and reform him. Becky and I talk a great deal about serious subjects now, you know. We feel that we are so much older than we used to be that it isn't becoming to talk of childish matters. It's such a solemn thing to grow older, Mr. Quark. Last week, Mrs. Chel called all us girls who are in our teens to a meeting after lunch. She said we couldn't be too careful what habits we formed and what ideals we acquired in our teens, because by the time we were eighteen our characters would be developed and the foundation laid for our whole future life. And she said if the foundation was shaky we could never build anything really worth while on it. Becky and I talked the matter over coming home from school. We felt extremely solemn, Mr. Quark. And we decided that we would try to be very careful indeed and form respectable habits and learn all we could and be as sensible as possible, so that by the time we were eighteen our characters would be properly developed. It's perfectly appalling to think of being eighteen, Mr. Quark. It sounds so fearfully old and grown up. But why did Mrs. Chel speak to you?"

"That's what I want to tell you, Ahn, if you'll ever give me a chance to get a word in edgewise. She was talking about you."

"About me?" Ahn looked rather scared. Then she flushed and exclaimed:

"Oh, I know what she was saying. I meant to tell you, Mr. Quark, honestly I did, but I forgot. Mrs. Chel caught me listening to music in class yesterday morning when I should have been studying my Bajoran history. Alice Pickett had lent me her sub-space radio player before classes started. I was listening to the station's music channel, KDS9, when it came time to pull out our datapadds. The DJ had promised to play this new Klingon song, and I was simply wild to find out what it sounded like. So, I tucked the earpiece in my ear, and put the receiver in my pocket. Then, I picked up my datapadd and just made myself LOOK as if I were studying Bajoran history, you know, while all the while I was listening to the music. Just when the song began to play Mrs. Chel came down the aisle and I just looked up and there she was looking down at me, so reproachful-like. I can't tell you how ashamed I felt, Mr.Quark, especially when I heard the whole class giggling. Mrs. Chel took the player away, but she never said a word then. But she kept me in at recess and talked to me. She said I had done very wrong in two respects. First, I was wasting the time I ought to have put on my studies; and secondly, I was deceiving my teacher in trying to make it appear I was reading when I was actually listening to music. I had never realized until that moment, Mr. Quark, that what I was doing was deceitful. I was shocked. I cried bitterly, and asked Mrs. Chel to forgive me and I'd never do such a thing again; and I offered to do penance by not listening to music for a whole week, even if it meant missing the Klingon song. But Mrs. Chel said she wouldn't require that, and she gave me the player back. So I think it wasn't very kind of her to come up here to you about it after all."

"Mrs. Chel never told me anything about that, Ahn, and if you get caught doing something wrong, it's your own fault. I might as well get up and head back to the bar now," Quark said. "I can see that you don't want to hear what Mrs. Chel had to say. You're more interested in the sound of your own tongue than in anything else."

"Oh, indeed, Mr. Quark, I do want to hear it," cried Ahn contritely. "I won't say another word...not one. I know I talk too much, but I am really trying to overcome it, and although I say far too much, yet if you only knew how many things I want to say and don't, you'd give me some credit for it. Please tell me, Mr. Quark."

"Well, Mrs. Chel wants to put together a class for those interested in applying to the University of Bajor. She wants to give extra lessons after school, to prepare for the entrance exams. And she came to ask me if you would like to join. What do you think?

"Oh, Mr. Quark!" Ahn straightened to her knees and clasped her hands. "It's been the dream of my life...that is, for the last six months, ever since Mrs. Chel first told us about the University. But I didn't say anything about it, because I supposed it would be perfectly useless. I'd love to be a teacher someday. But won't it be dreadfully expensive? Commander Kira says that many Bajoran parents start saving for it before their children are even born."

"But if you do well enough on the exams, you could get a scholarship. That way, you'd get to go to one of the best schools in the quadrant and I wouldn't have to pay a thing. I think this would be a very good opportunity for you. I mean, it's important that you begin making your way in the universe. As a female, you can't inherit my business, but there are other areas open to someone like you. You'll have a place here as long as I'm around, but whoever I leave the bar to may not feel the same way. Nobody knows what's going to happen in this uncertain universe, so you've got to be prepared. What's your decision going to be, Ahn?"

"Oh, Mr. Quark, thank you." Ahn flung her arms about Quark's waist and buried her face in his chest. "I'm eternally grateful to you. And I'll study as hard as I can and do my very best to be a credit to you. I warn you not to expect much in mathematics, but I think I can hold my own in anything else if I work hard."

"I know that you'll do well. Mrs. Chel says you're a hard worker." Not for worlds would Quark have told Ahn just what Mrs. Chel had said about her; that would have been to pamper vanity. "You don't need to kill yourself studying. It's another year and a half before you have to take the exam. But Mrs. Chel says that it's best to start working on it early."

"I shall take more interest than ever in my studies now," said Ahn blissfully, "because I have a purpose in life. Dr. Bashir says everybody should have a purpose in life and pursue it faithfully. Only he says we must first make sure that it is a worthy purpose. I would call it a worthy purpose to want to be a teacher like Mrs. Chel, wouldn't you, Mr. Quark? I think teaching is a very noble profession."

The University class was organized in due time. Tared Evron, Kor Ahn, Rislan Dana, Alice Pickett, Leslie Brooks, and B'Toreth joined. Becky Peters did not, as her parents intended for her to go to Jilliard, or Starfleet Academy. This seemed nothing short of a calamity to Ahn. Since the day Azran Sisko was lost, had she and Becky been separated in anything. On the evening when the University class first remained after school for the extra lessons and Ahn saw Becky leave slowly out the door with the others, it was all the former could do to keep her seat and refrain from rushing impulsively after her chum. A lump came into her throat, and she hastily looked down at her datapadd to keep from bursting into sobs. Not for worlds would Ahn have had Tared Evron see those tears.

"But, oh, Mr. Quark, I really felt that I had tasted the bitterness of death, when I saw Becky go out alone," she said mournfully that night. "I thought how splendid it would have been if Becky had only been going to study for the exams, too. But we can't have things perfect in this imperfect universe, as Commander Kira often says. Commander Kira isn't exactly a comforting person sometimes, but there's no doubt she says a great many very true things. And I think the University class is going to be extremely interesting. Alice and B'Toreth want to be teachers, like me. Alice says she will only teach for two years after graduation, and then she intends to be married. B'Toreth says he will devote his whole life to teaching on the Klingon homeworld, and never, ever marry, rather than have a wife who will take away all his money, and growl once it has all been spent. I expect B'Toreth speaks from mournful experience, for he always says his mother will spend until the bank is empty, and is meaner to his father than a rabid targ until the next payday. Leslie Brooks says she is just going to university for education's sake, because she won't have to earn her own living; she says of course it is different with orphans who are living on charity...THEY have to hustle. Rislan Dana says she may eventually join a religious order. I wonder how she'll keep her vows, since she is always so crazy about boys. I hope it isn't wicked of me, Mr. Quark, but really the thought of Rislan Dana being a Vedek or a monk makes me laugh. She's in love with a different boy every week, and when she talks to them, she tosses her hair, and does this strange blinking thing with her right eye. But perhaps he will be more intellectual acting when she grows up.

"What is Tared Evron going to be?" queried Quark, as Ahn picked up a data padd.

"I don't happen to know what Tared Evron's ambition in life is - if he even has any," said Ahn scornfully.

There was open rivalry between Evron and Ahn now. Previously the rivalry had been rather onesided, but there was no longer any doubt that Evron was as determined to be first in class as Ahn was. He was a foe worthy of her steel. The other members of the class tacitly acknowledged their superiority, and never dreamed of trying to compete with them.

Since the day in the holosuite when she had refused to listen to his plea for forgiveness, Evron, save for the aforesaid determined rivalry, had evinced no recognition whatever of the existence of Kor Ahn. He talked and joked with the other girls, exchanged books and shared candy with them, discussed lessons and plans, sometimes walked home with one or the other of them from classes. But Kor Ahn he simply ignored, and Ahn found out that it is not pleasant to be ignored. It was in vain that she told herself that she did not care. Deep down in her wayward, feminine little heart she knew that she did care, and that if she had that chance at the holosuite lake again she would answer very differently. All at once, as it seemed, and to her secret dismay, she found that the old resentment she had cherished against him was gone - gone just when she most needed its sustaining power. She tried to recall every incident and emotion of that memorable occasion, searching in vain for that old satisfying anger. But that day had witnessed its last spasmodic flicker. Ahn realized, too late, that her heart had forgiven and forgotten.

And at least neither Evron nor anybody else, not even Becky, should ever suspect how sorry she was and how much she wished she hadn't been so proud and horrid! She determined to "shroud her feelings in deepest oblivion," and it may be stated here and now that she did it, so successfully that Evron, who possibly was not quite so indifferent as he seemed, could not console himself with any belief that Ahn felt his retaliatory scorn. The only poor comfort he had was that she also snubbed the other boys, unmercifully, continually, and undeservedly.

Otherwise the remainder of the year passed in a round of routine duties and studies. For Ahn the days slipped by at warp speed. She was happy, eager, interested; there were lessons to be learned and honor to be won; delightful books to read; new projects to undertake; busy weekend afternoons at the bar with Quark; and then, almost before Ahn realized it, another year had come to Deep Space Nine.

Studies palled just a wee bit then; the University class, left behind in the classroom while the others scattered throughout the station, looked wistfully out the doorway and discovered that math exercises, science experiments, and reading assignments had somehow lost the tang and zest they had possessed in the previous months. Even Ahn and Evron lagged and grew indifferent. Teacher and taught were alike glad when the term ended and the vacation days lay ahead like the light at the end of a pitch black tunnel.

"You've all done excellent work this past year," Mrs. Chel told them during the last session, "and you deserve a long, restful vacation. I wish you all good health, good luck, and good fun until we meet again next year. And when we return, let it be with fresh minds and renewed hearts. There is much work that still needs to be done you know - only one more year before you take the exams."

"Will you return?" asked B'Toreth.

B'Toreth never scrupled to ask questions; in this instance the rest of the class felt grateful to him; none of them would have dared to ask it of Mrs. Chel, but all wanted to, for there had been alarming rumors running at large through the school for some time that Mrs. Chel was not coming back the next year - that her husband had been offered a position on the Trill homeworld, and wherever he went, she would follow. The University class listened in breathless suspense for her answer.

"Yes, I will," said Mrs. Chel. "My husband and I thought over the move, but decided to remain on Deep Space Nine. He is quite satisfied with his job here, and to tell the truth, I've grown so interested in you all that I found I just couldn't leave. So I'm here to stay."

B'Toreth let out what could best be described as a Klingon cheer. He had never been so carried away by his feelings before, and the sound of his jubilant roar went out into the Promenade, causing people to stop in their tracks.

"Oh, I'm so glad," said Ahn, with shining eyes. "Mrs. Chel, it would've been dreadful if you didn't come back. I don't believe I could have the heart to go on with my studies at all if another teacher came here."

When Ahn got home that night she stacked all her textbooks away in an old trunk, locked it, and slid it into a corner in her bedroom.

"I'm not even going to look at a schoolbook while on vacation," she told Quark. "I studied all term as hard as I possibly could. I poured over every mathematical equation, historical fact, and rule of grammar until I knew them all by heart. I just feel tired of everything sensible and I'm going to let my imagination run riot for the summer. Oh, you needn't be alarmed, Mr. Quark. I'll only let it run riot within reasonable limits. But I want to have a real good time this summer, for maybe it's the last summer I'll be a young girl. Dr. Bashir says that if I keep growing at my present rate, I'll need a whole new wardrobe by the new school year. I'll have to wear adult clothes like and I shall feel that I have to live up to them and be very dignified. It won't even do to believe in spirits then, I'm afraid; so I'm going to believe in them with all my whole heart this summer. I think we're going to have a great vacation. Alice Pickett is going to have her birthday party soon and there's a bunch of holosuite games I haven't tried yet and the Bajoran music festival is coming next month. And Becky says that she might go to see her Uncle Quinn on New Bajor. If so, perhaps I could go along this time. Becky says New Bajor has these forests with beautiful picnic areas. Last time she went, she said it was a dazzling sight to see. The setting suns were all orange and violet, and the guests ate and sang songs into the night. Becky says it was her first glimpse into the high life and she'll never forget it to her dying day."

A few days later, Commander Kira came by Quark's quarters to find out why he had not opened the bar for breakfast as he always did. She had become a regular customer, and the concept had taken on quite well. In fact, the bar did not open until lunch, and with one of the head waiters in charge. When she rang the door chime, it was Nog who answered. He gestured for her to come in, but to stay quiet.

"Uncle Quark had a terrible headache this morning," Nog whispered. "It was so bad, he couldn't stand. I forced him to go to Infirmary. He's doing better now, but he gets these headaches so often now that I'm worried. Doctor Bashir's scanned his head a dozen times, but couldn't find anything wrong. He thinks maybe it's stress. He gave Uncle some relaxants, and promised to do some more research. He even suggested contacting a Ferengi doctor, but I know it won't happen. Uncle hates doctors, and the only reason he agrees to the Infirmary is because Starfleet doesn't charge."

Nog invited the Commander to take a seat, but she declined. "I see that you've got your hands full," she said.

"It's ok," Nog insisted. "I'm not alone here." As Kira took a seat on the sofa, she spotted Ahn, going towards the back bedroom, with a pillow and a cup full of steaming liquid. She stopped briefly to offer a polite nod.

"I have to say, Ahn's really turned out well," admitted Kira. "She must be a great help to him."

"She is," said Nog. "She's the most reliable person I know. I used to think she was kind of careless, but I wouldn't be afraid to trust her in anything now."

"I never would have thought she'd have turned out so well the first time I saw her," said Kira. "I mean, that tantrum of hers was really something! When I left, I said to myself, 'Quark's going to be sorry for this!' But I was mistaken. Now, it's never been easy for me to admit that I've made a mistake. But I did make a big one in judging Ahn. I thought she was too stange and unruly, but it's nothing short of wonderful how she's improved these past few years. She's got a good mind, and she's growing into a beautiful young lady. Yes, I think that she is going to go far."

- - - - -

**EPISODE XXV  
The Thought of What Lay Ahead**

Ahn enjoyed her vacation from school wholeheartedly. She and Becky practically lived on the Promenade, reveling in the delights its three levels afforded. This time, Quark offered no objections to their roamings. During Ahn's yearly physical, Doctor Bashir noted some calluses on her fingers, and dark circles beneath her eyes. He screwed up his mouth, shook his head, and sent a message to Quark. It was:

"Let Ahn have some time to herself for once. Give her a rest from studying and don't ask her to do any work at the bar. If you don't agree, you can take it up with me...in person."

This message frightened Quark wholeheartedly. He saw a summons from stern-faced officials, along with heavy fines, if these orders were not scrupulously obeyed. As a result, Ahn had the vacation of her life as far as freedom and frolic went. She rested, roamed, wandered, and dreamed to her heart's content. By the time classes resumed, she was refreshed and alert. Her hands were baby soft, and her face was bright and clear. Dr. Bashir was satisfied.

"I feel just like studying with all my might and main," she declared as she brought her books out from underneath her bed. "Oh, you good old friends, I'm glad to see your honest faces once more - yes, even the mathematics. I've had a perfectly beautiful summer, Mr. Quark, and now I'm as right as rain, as Dr. Bashir said last week. Doesn't Dr. Bashir say such clever things? Commander Kira says that one day, perhaps Starfleet Medical will offer him a promotion and then we'll be left to break in another green doctor. But I don't see the use of meeting trouble halfway, do you, Mr. Quark? I think it would be better just to enjoy Dr. Bashir while we have him. If I weren't going to be a teacher then I would be a doctor. It must be thrilling to keep people from death's door. Do you think I would make a better doctor than a teacher?"

"You can be whatever you put your mind to...almost." said Quark. "While I don't think females have much mind for business, teaching and medicine do offer possibilities."

"Mr. Quark," said Ahn in a burst of confidence, "I want to tell you something and ask you what you think about it. It has worried me terribly...at night, that is, when I think especially about such matters. I do really want to be good; and when I'm with you or Cousin Nog or Mrs. Chel I want it more than ever and I want to do just what would please you and what you would approve of. But when I'm around other people I feel like I want to go and do the very things I should not do. I feel irresistibly tempted to do it. Now, what do you think is the reason I feel like that? Do you think it's because I'm bad? Is there something in my nature that is essentially corrupt?"  
Quark looked dubious for a moment. Then he laughed.

"If you are, then I guess I am too. I have to admit that some people have that same effect on me. Take Moogie. I sometimes think she'd have more of an influence for good, as you say yourself, if she didn't keep nagging me to do right. There should have been a rule of acquisition against nagging. But there, I shouldn't talk about her so. My Moogie is a fine woman and she means well. There isn't a kinder soul or a finer set of ears out there."

"I'm very glad you feel as I do," said Ahn decidedly. "It's so encouraging. I won't worry so much about that after this. But I dare say there'll be other things to worry me. I keep coming up with new thoughts all the time...things that perplex me, you know. I'll settle one question and there's another right after. There are so many things to be thought over and decided when you're beginning to grow up. It keeps me busy all the time thinking them over and deciding what is right. It's a serious thing to grow up, isn't it, Mr. Quark? But when I have such good friends as you and Cousin Nog and Becky and Mrs. Chel I ought to grow up successfully, and I'm sure it will be my own fault if I don't. I feel it's a great responsibility because I have only the one chance. If I don't grow up right I can't go back and begin over again. Why, I've grown two inches this summer alone. I'm so glad you let me order some new clothes. My old ones have become too short and too tight. The dark-green dress I picked will be my new favorite. It is so pretty and it has a lower neckline. Of course, I know it might raise some eyes, but lower necklines are the style for this fall and Rislan Dana has hers almost to the chest. It's as if she's begging for attention."

"I'll bet," Quark remarked.

Mrs. Chel came back to the station school and found all her pupils eager for work once more. The University class was especially eager, since the fateful exams (known as "the Entrance"), would take place at the end of the year. The very thought made their hearts sink into their boots. What if they did not pass! That thought was doomed to haunt Ahn all her waking hours, weekends included, to the virtual exclusion of moral and theological problems. When Ahn had nightmares she found herself staring miserably at the pass lists of the Entrance exams, where Tared Evron's name was blazoned at the top and in which hers did not appear at all.  
But it was a busy, challenging, swift-flying school year. The classes were as interesting, class rivalry as absorbing, as the year before. New worlds of thought, feeling, and ambition, fresh, fascinating fields of unexplored knowledge seemed to be opening out before Ahn's eager eyes.

"To boldly go where no one has gone before."

Much of all this was due to Mrs. Chel's tactful, careful, broadminded guidance. She led her class to think and explore and discover for themselves and encouraged straying from the old beaten paths to a degree that shocked many parents, who viewed such innovations on established methods rather dubiously. Apart from her studies, Ahn expanded socially, for Quark, mindful of Dr. Bashir's warning, no longer vetoed occasional outings. The school held its annual concerts and plays; there were one or two parties almost verging on grown-up affairs; and there were trips to Bajor.

Ahn also grew in other ways, shooting up so rapidly in height that Quark was astonished one day, when they were standing side by side in a turbolift, to find she was taller than himself.

"You're almost an adult now," he said, almost unbelievingly. A sigh followed on the words. Quark felt a queer regret over Ahn's growth. The child he had learned to love had vanished somehow and here was this tall, serious-eyed young woman of sixteen, with the thoughtful eyes and the proudly poised head, in her place. Quark loved the young woman as much as he had loved the child, but he was conscious of a queer and sorrowful sense of loss. That night, when Ahn had gone to sleep, Quark wandered onto the Promenade. Stopping in front of a large observation window, he soon was lost in his own thoughts and memories. Nog, en route to Ops, happened to catch sight of him standing alone. If he didn't know better, he swore he saw a tear travel down his uncle's cheek.

"Some dust in my eye," Quark blurted out as his nephew approached.

Nog nodded, faking agreement. "I was just thinking, when Ahn passes that exam, she'll be leaving the station."

"And I for one will be glad," Quark replied. "It's about time she began making her own way in the universe. She's already cost me a fortune." Though his tone came off as gruff, a part of him sorely wished for the eager little girl who was brought to him years before.

"You may be right," sighed Nog, "But, I'm really going to miss her. Things just won't be the same around here."

Besides the physical, there were other changes in Ahn. She became much quieter. Perhaps she thought all the more and dreamed as much as ever, but she certainly talked less. Quark commented on this a few days later, as they cleaned the bar.

"You don't talk half as much as you used to, and you don't use half as many of those big words. What's gotten into you?"

Ahn finished dusting a table, then she turned to face Quark.

"I just don't want to talk as much," she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "I think it's nicer to think dear, pretty thoughts and keep them in one's heart, like treasures. I don't like to have them laughed at or wondered over. And for some reason, I don't feel the need to use big words any more. It's almost a pity, isn't it, now that I'm really growing big enough to know their true meaning. It's fun to be almost grown up in some ways, but it's not the kind of fun I expected, Mr. Quark. There's so much to learn and do and think that there isn't time for big words. Besides, Mrs. Chel says the short ones are much stronger and better. She asks us write all our essays with the clearest, simplest language possible. It was hard at first. I was so used to crowding in all the fine big words I could think of. But I've gotten used to it now and I see it's so much better."

"And whatever happened to that story club of yours? I haven't heard you mention it in a long time."

"The story club is no longer in existence. No one had the time for it. Anyway, I think we had grown tired of it. It was silly to be writing about love and murder and tragedies and mysteries. Mrs. Chel sometimes assigns a short writing project, but she won't let us do any fiction. Then she takes our work and criticizes heavily while making us criticize it as well. I never thought my writing had so many faults until I began to look for them myself. I felt so ashamed I wanted to give up altogether, but Mrs. Chel said I could learn to write well if I only trained myself to be my own severest critic. And so I am trying to."

"You've only got two more months before exams," said Quark. "Do you think you'll be ready?"

Ahn shivered. "I don't know. Sometimes I think I'll be all right - and then I get horribly afraid. We've studied hard and Mrs. Chel has drilled us thoroughly, but still it may not be enough. We've each got a stumbling block. Mine is math of course, and B'Toreth's is reading, and Dana's and Alice's is physics, and Leslie's is history. Leslie says she feels in her bones that she will fail in inter-galactic history. Mrs. Chel is going to give us a practice exam next week so we'll have some idea what to expect. I wish it was all over, Mr. Quark. It haunts me. Sometimes I wake up in the night and wonder what I'll do if I don't pass."

"You'll try again, that's what" said Quark, unconcerned.

"Oh, I don't believe I'd have the heart for it. It would be such a disgrace to fail, especially if Evr - if the others passed. And I get so nervous during exams that I'm likely to make a mess of it. I wish I had nerves like B'Toreth. Nothing rattles a Klingon."

Ahn sighed and began dragging her dust rag across another table. Sure there would be other chances, but if she did not succeed in passing this one time, Ahn felt convinced that she would never have the heart to try again.

- - - - -  


**EPISODE XXVI  
The Pass List Is Out**

With the end of the school year came time for the Entrance. Mrs. Chel arranged to accompany the University class to Bajor the following week. As Ahn left the final study session, Becky came to greet her. Though she had just submitted her application to Jilliard, she was not in an optimistic mood.

"It seems as if everything's coming to an end now, doesn't it?" Becky remarked dismally. "You and I will be at the opposite ends of space."

"But we can talk to each other over subspace." Ahn countered. "Better yet, we can exchange gifts. You can send me recordings of your piano concerts, and I'll press some flowers from the University gardens."

"It won't be the same. You won't be around, nor will Rislan Dana, nor will B'Toreth for that matter. I will be on Earth alone, for there isn't another friend out there as true as you. Oh, we have had some great times, haven't we, Ahn? It's dreadful to think they're all over."

Two big tears rolled down by Becky's nose.

"Oh, please don't start crying," said Ahn imploringly. "You'll get me started. Why should we be upset? You and I are moving up in the universe. I will be a teacher and you will be a great pianist. Let's be happy for each other. Or as Mr. Quark says, 'If you can't be happy, be as happy as you can.' After all, I dare say I may still be here next year. This is one of those times I feel I KNOW I'm not going to pass. Those feelings are getting alarmingly frequent."

"But you did so well on the practice exam."

"Yes, but that didn't make me nervous. When I think of the real thing you can't imagine what a horrid cold fluttery feeling comes round my heart. And to make matters worse, my identification number ends in thirteen and you humans say that number is so unlucky. I am NOT human and I know it can make no difference. But still I wish my number didn't end in thirteen."

"I wish I could go with you next week," said Becky. "But I suppose I'd only be a distraction. You'll tell me how it goes, won't you?"

"I'll tell you everything," promised Ahn.

The next week, Becky spent her waking hours waiting anxiously by her computer. Ahn's written message finally came the morning of the fourth day.

"Dearest Becky" [wrote Ahn],

"I am writing late at night, while sitting on my bed. All day today I was terribly lonely and wishing so much that you were here with me. I wanted to take a quick look at my books, but Mrs. Chel told me no. She said it was 'cramming' and that was very bad. She said that 'if you haven't learned it in two years, you will not learn it now.' She told me to take a walk instead, and it calmed me down a little."

"When we first arrived, Mrs. Chel took us all on a tour of the campus. Rislan Dana asked me to feel her hands and they were as cold as ice. B'Toreth said I looked as if I hadn't slept and he didn't believe I was strong enough to withstand the rigors of the teacher's course even if I did pass the Entrance. There are times and seasons even yet when I don't feel that I've made any great headway in learning to like him!"

"When we reached the main concourse there were scores of students from other worlds. They were all talking and mingling, except for this one Vulcan who sat on the steps, muttering away to himself. Leslie Brooks asked him what was he was doing and he said he was reciting the teachings of Surak to steady his nerves and not to interrupt him, because if he stopped for a moment he got distracted and forgot everything he ever knew. Only this Surak helped him keep all his facts firmly in their proper place!"

"On the second day, Mrs. Chel came to the dorms and gave us a final talk. She wished us good luck and said that no matter what happened, she was grateful to have had such wonderful students. She then took us to the examination room. Alice Pickett and I sat in the same row and she was so composed that I envied her. No muttering Surak for good, steady, sensible Alice! I wondered if I looked as I felt and if they could hear my heart thumping clear across the room."

"A man came in and began distributing the exam. My hands shook and my head fairly whirled around as I stared at it. For one awful moment, friend, my mind went blank. I felt exactly as I did many years ago when I asked Mr. Quark if I might stay on Deep Space Nine. Then just as suddenly, my mind began to work again, along with my heart. - I forgot to say that it too had stopped altogether! I picked up the datapadd and forward I went!"

"Five hours later, we returned to our dorms. Tomorrow, it would begin all over again. As I predicted, the math was quite difficult and I got dreadfully mixed up with my equations. Still, I think I did fairly well today. But oh, Becky, the composition section comes next and the thought of it makes me want to hide underneath my bed. If I knew anything about the teachings of Surak I would mumble it from now till tomorrow morning."

"I went to see the others after dinner this evening. I found B'Toreth wandering distractedly around. He said he knew he had done poorly and had dishonored his family. He talked about leaving on the morning shuttle, but I persuaded him to stay until the end. I said it would be an insult to Mrs. Chel if he didn't at least try. Sometimes I have wished I was born a male, but when I saw B'Toreth I felt truly grateful that I was a female, and a Cardassian at that."

"I found Rislan Dana in her room, practically in hysterics. She was convinced she had forgotten to write her name on her exam. When she recovered we went out and had an ice cream. How we wished you had been with us."

"Oh, Becky, if only the end would come quicker! But there, as Mr. Quark says, the sun will go on rising and setting whether I pass the Entrance or not. That is true but not especially comforting. I think I'd rather it didn't go on if I failed!

Yours devotedly,  
Kor Ahn"

The Entrance week concluded, and Ahn arrived home tired but with an air of chastened triumph about her. Becky was at the airlock when she arrived and they met as if they had been parted for years.

"Friend! It is so wonderful to see you again. It seems like forever since you left and oh, how did you do?"

"Pretty well, I think, in everything but the math. I don't know whether I passed or not and I have a creepy, crawly presentiment that I didn't. But oh, how good it is to be back! Deep Space Nine is truly for me a beacon in the darkness."

"How did the others do?"

"On the whole, I think we all did pretty well. Alice says the history was so easy an infant could have completed it! B'Toreth still thinks he failed it all, but we really won't know what happened until the pass list is out. That won't be for another two days. We'll be living all that time in suspense! I wish I could go to sleep and not wake up until it's all over."

Becky knew it would be useless to ask how Tared Evron had fared, so she merely said:

"Oh, you'll pass all right. Don't worry."

"I'd rather not pass at all than not come out pretty well up on the list," flashed Ahn, by which she meant - and Becky knew she meant - that success would be incomplete and bitter if she did not come out ahead of Tared Evron.

With this end in view Ahn had strained every nerve during the Entrance. So had Evron. They had met and passed each other on campus a dozen times without any sign of recognition and every time Ahn had held her head a little higher and wished a little more earnestly that she had made friends with Evron when he had asked her, and vowed a little more determinedly to surpass him in the examination. She knew that the entire school was wondering who would come out first; she even knew that Alojza Schumann and Lee Han had a bet on the matter and that William Toliver had said there was no doubt in the world that Evron would be first; and she felt that her humiliation would be unbearable if she failed.

But she had another and nobler motive for wishing to do well. She wanted to "pass high" for Quark's sake. He had declared to her his conviction that she "would show them all." That, Ahn felt, was something not to be hoped for even in her wildest dreams. But she did hoped fervently that she would be among the top scorers, so that she might see Quark's ears perk up with pride in her achievement. That, she felt, would be a sweet reward indeed for all her hard work and patient grubbing among unimaginative facts and equations.  
On the fateful day, Ahn took to "haunting" the doors outside the schoolroom, in the distracted company of Dana, Leslie, and Alice, all pacing back and forth wringing their hands and possessed with feelings as foreboding as any experienced during Entrance week. Evron was not above doing this too, but B'Toreth stayed resolutely away.

"A Klingon does not stand around, trembling and sweating like frightened prey. I will wait until someone comes and tells me whether I've passed or not."

When morning, then afternoon had gone by without the pass list appearing, Ahn began to feel that she really couldn't stand the strain much longer. Her head throbbed and legs felt like they would buckle. Quark, noting Ahn's paleness and lack of appetite, seriously wondered if he shouldn't slip the testing officials a little "encouragement" to work faster.

The news didn't come until late evening. By then, Ahn was sitting on a barstool, for the time being distracted from the woes of exams and the cares of the universe by an ice-cream sundae. She dug a path through fluffy whipped cream and dark melted fudge, finally reaching the pale ice cream. Just as she raised the spoon to her mouth, she saw Rislan Dana fly into the bar. The expression on her face was unmistakable.

Ahn sprang to her feet. Her head whirled and her heart beat until it hurt. She could not move a step. It seemed an eternity before Dana came to stand before her.

"Ahn, you've passed," she cried, "at the VERY TOP...you and Evron tied...but your name is up there first. Oh, I'm so proud of you!"

Dana reached out and embraced her tightly, leaving Ahn utterly breathless and incapable of speech. Yes, she had passed - number one from hundreds of applicants total! That moment was truly worth living for.

"You did just splendidly, Ahn," puffed Dana, releasing her, for Ahn, starry eyed and rapt, had not uttered a word. "The results were posted just now, and when I saw it I rushed over right away. We all passed, every one of us. I'm in the top ten percent myself! Won't Mrs. Chel be delighted? Oh, Ahn, what does it feel like to see your name at the head of a pass list like that? If it were me I know I'd go crazy with joy. I am pretty near crazy as it is, but you're as calm and cool as your ice cream."

"I don't know what to say," said Ahn. "I can't find the words to match the feeling. I never dreamed of this...yes, I did too, just once! I let myself think ONCE, 'What if I should come out first?' But it seemed so vain and presumptuous to think I could be the top at anything. Will you excuse me now, I need to talk to someone."

Ahn hurried up the stairs, where Quark had just finished screening a new holosuite program. Though Ahn was ready to burst, she took a deep breath and addressed him in subdued tones.

"Oh, Mr. Quark," exclaimed Ahn, "I didn't mean to interrupt, but I wanted to let you know that I've passed and that I'm first...or one of the first. I'm not being vain, mind you, I'm just stating a fact."

"Well, I always said you could do it," Quark replied, equally subdued. "I knew you could beat them all easily. You're a credit to the station, and to me Ahn, and I'm very proud of you."

An awkward pause followed. Then just as Quark was about to head down, Ahn rushed forward, locking the Ferengi in an embrace. She held on so tightly that he could feel the beating of her heart. It was a heart filled with adoration and gratitude. It was a heart filled with thankfulness for the past and reverent petition for the future. It was a heart filled with dreams as fair and bright and beautiful as any soul could desire.

It was a tight embrace, but Quark did not back away.  



	7. Ahn of Deep Space Nine Episodes 27 to 29

**Ahn of Deep Space Nine**  
  
A fan-novel, based on _Anne of Green Gables_ by Lucy Maud Montgomery and _STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE.  
  
DISCLAIMER:_ This was written solely for the sake of fun. No money is being made here, and no copyright infringement is intended. Takes place after "What You Leave Behind," the final episode of _Deep Space Nine._

- - - - -

**EPISODE XXVII  
A Night To Remember**

"What do you think?" Ahn queried.

The blue one, by all means," answered Becky decidedly.

The two young ladies stood before a long mirror in Ahn's bedroom. Dresses of different colors and designs were spread over the bed, with matching shoes lined up across the floor. It was late evening, but Ahn and Becky had no intention of sleeping just yet. Important decisions had to be made.

Ahn's bedroom was a very different place from when she first arrived on Deep Space Nine. Back then, the little room gave off such unwelcoming airs that it sent chills down Ahn's back. But changes crept in over time, despite Quark's resistance, until it was as warm and inviting a nest as any being could desire.

The gold velvet carpet of Ahn's early visions had certainly never materialized; but her dreams had kept pace with her growth, and it is not probable she lamented them. The floor was covered with a pretty fuschia matting, and the curtains that enhanced the starry skies were of a matching patterned material. The walls were adorned not with Bolian tapestries, but with picture frames holding candid snapshots of dear friends. Ahn had only one photograph of Quark, but it occupied a place of honor, underneath her pillow. She made a special point of glancing at it before going to bed every night. Her furniture consisted of a simple metal shelving unit filled with books, a desk with matching chair, a dressing table, a full-length mirror and a bed decked out in frilly linens.

Ahn was choosing an outfit for the reception being held by Commander Kira. She was hosting a group of dignitaries from across the sector, and was looking to display some of the station's young talent. Four students were chosen to entertain. Alojza Schumann would perform a juggling act, then Ayla Krel would recite some traditional Bajoran poetry. Becky Peters planned to play some selections from Beethoven. To close out the evening, Kor Ahn would give a speech on inter-galactic unity.

As Ahn would have said at one time, it was "an epoch in her life," and she was absolutely thrilled by it. Nog was quite impressed by the honor conferred upon his cousin and Quark was not far behind, although he would have died rather than admit it. Instead, he questioned Commander Kira's wisdom in entrusting the entertainment of such luminaries to "a bunch of children."

The recital would be held the next evening, in the station's Amphitheater. Afterwards, the performers would join the guests at a special dinner.

"Do you really think the blue is the best?" queried Ahn anxiously. "I don't think it's as pretty as the green, and it certainly isn't as fashionable."

"But the blue suits you so much better," said Becky. "The sleeves hang so beautifully, and the beading accents your eyes. The green is stiff, and makes you look too dressed up. But the blue seems to flow on you - almost like water."

Ahn sighed and yielded. Becky always possessed a reputation for good taste, and her advice on such subjects was much sought after. She was looking very pretty herself in burgundy brocade, from which Ahn was forever debarred. Becky already knew what she was going to war, so her efforts were now focused upon her friend, who she vowed must, for the honor of the station, be dressed and combed and adorned to the highest standard.

"Why don't you wear some of your hair down; here part it horizontally, like that. Let the bottom half hang down, and pin up the top... don't pull it back so tight, just let it look soft. I'll put a little of this lipstick on you, and some liner around your eyes to bring them out."

"What about this bracelet?" asked Ahn. "It was a birthday gift from Cousin Nog, and I know he'd like to see me wear it."

Becky pursed up her lips, tipped her dark curly head to one side critically, then finally gave the thumbs-up.

"You look absolutely stunning," said Becky, with unenvious admiration. "You always stand so straight and proud. I, on the other hand, have a tendency to slouch. I know it's a bad habit, but I can't seem to help myself. Well, I suppose I shall just have to resign myself to it."

"But you have such lovely hair," said Ahn, smiling affectionately into the pretty, vivacious face so near her own. "Lovely curly hair, dark as a raven's wing. I have given up all hope of having such hair. My dark-hair dream will never come true; but so many of my dreams have that I mustn't complain. Am I all ready now?"

"All ready," assured Becky, as Quark appeared in the doorway, a figure much shorter and older, but with a handsomeness all its own. "Come and get a preview of tomorrow night. Doesn't our honored speaker look lovely?"

Quark emitted a sound between a sniff and a grunt.

"It's acceptable enough. The dress is fine, but I expect she'll ruin her hair before the night is through. Elaborate styles don't sit well with Ahn, but there's no point in changing it now. It's not like you would anyway. There used to be a time when my word was considered law, but now people like to do as they please. Everyone likes to go for the prettiest thing, without thinking about whether or not it will last. Just watch where you walk, Ahn. Don't slip in those heels, and don't trip over the bottom of your dress."

Then Quark stalked out of the room, thinking proudly how sweet Ahn looked, and regretting that he could not make it to the Amphitheater tomorrow because he knew the bar would be swamped.

"I wonder if I can make myself look like this tomorrow night," said Ahn anxiously.

"Not to worry," said Becky, linking her arm with Ahn's. "It will be a perfect night, and you'll hold up just fine. Oh, just look out at the stars."

"I'm so glad to have a window in my room," said Ahn, looking at Becky. "It's splendid to wake up and have billions of points of light there to greet me. Every morning, I feel as if my soul's been illuminated. My dear friend, I love this place so dearly. I don't know how I'll get along when I go to Bajor."

"Don't speak of going away tonight," begged Becky. "I don't want to think of it, it makes me so miserable, and I do want to have a good time before the end comes. What will you say tomorrow night, Ahn? Aren't you the least bit nervous?"

"Not a bit. I've spoken so often in public I don't mind at all now. I'm keeping what I'll say a secret, if you don't mind. I thought about adding in some lighthearted comments, but I didn't think Commander Kira would appreciate me making everyone laugh."

"What will you do if they request an encore?"

"They won't dream of encoring me," scoffed Ahn, who was not without her own secret hopes that they would, already envisioning herself telling Quark about it over steaming raktegenos. "Come on, we'd better go get some rest."

The next evening, some fifty ambassadors and esteemed guests slowly made their way into the Amphitheater. Meanwhile, the performers were already waiting in a room directly behind the stage. As they peeked out at the incoming guests, Ahn suddenly felt terribly out of place. Her deep blue dress, which, in front of the bedroom mirror, had seemed so dainty and pretty, now seemed simple and plain - too simple and plain, she thought, among the sea of fabrics, jewels, feathers, furs, and embroidery before her. What were her beaded sleeves compared to the Klingon's massive cloaks? And how poor her hair looked compared to the curls, braids, and upsweeps of the Betazoids! Ahn crossed her arms, and shrank miserably into a corner. She wished herself back in her own room, beneath the bed.

It got even worse near the end of the evening, when it was her turn to speak. The bright lights stung her Cardassian eyes, the smells and sounds bewildered her. She wished she were sitting in the audience next to Nog and Becky, who had completed her musical presentation to a standing ovation. Together, they seemed to be having a splendid time in the back. Filling out the row was a stout Risian lady in a multicolored pantsuit and a tall, thin Bolian lady in a pure white gown. The Risian stared straight in Ahn's direction until she, acutely sensitive of being so scrutinized, felt that she must scream aloud; and the Bolian kept talking audibly to her next neighbor about the "unsophisticated lot" that populated the station, languidly voicing her "great amusement" from the displays of local talent that evening.

Ahn believed that she would hate both those women to the end of time.

Unfortunately for Ahn, a Cardassian ambassador had also been invited to attend, and had been asked to speak. He was an older, impressive looking gentleman in a mustard-yellow suit with deep brown trim. He had a marvelously flexible voice and wonderful power of expression; the audience was transfixed by his words. Ahn, forgetting all about herself and her troubles for the time, listened with rapt and shining eyes; but when the recitation ended she suddenly put her hands over her face. She could never get up and speak after that - never. Had she ever thought she could speak on inter-galactic unity? Oh, what she'd give only to disappear!

At this unpropitious moment her name was called. Somehow Ahn got on her feet, and moved dizzily out to the front. She was so pale that Becky and Nog, down in the audience, clasped their hands in nervous sympathy. Ahn was the victim of an overwhelming attack of stage fright. As often as she had spoken in public, she had never before faced such an audience as this, and the sight of it paralyzed her completely. Everything was so strange, so bright, so bewildering - the rows of people in their finest dress, the critical faces, the whole atmosphere of wealth, power, and culture about her. This was light years away from the schoolroom desks filled with the faces of friends and classmates. These people, she thought, would be merciless critics. Perhaps, like the Bolian, they anticipated amusement from her "unsophisticated" efforts. She felt hopelessly, helplessly ashamed and miserable.

Her knees trembled, her heart fluttered, a horrible faintness came over her; not a word could she utter, and the next moment she would have fled from the stage despite the humiliation which, she felt, must ever after be her portion if she did so.

But suddenly, as her dilated, frightened eyes gazed out over the audience, she saw Tared Evron at the back of the room, leaning forward with a smile on his face - a smile which seemed to Ahn at once triumphant and taunting. In reality it was nothing of the sort. Evron was merely smiling with appreciation over the whole affair in general and of the effect produced by Ahn's blue-garbed form. On the other hand, B'Toreth, who sat next to him, had a face both triumphant and taunting. But Ahn did not see B'Toreth, and would not have cared if she had. She drew a long breath and flung her head up proudly, courage and determination tingling over her like a plasma shock. She WOULD NOT fail before Tared Evron - he would never be able to laugh at her, never, never! Her fright vanished, and she began her speech. Ahn's voice, filled with expression, reached to the farthest corners of the Amphitheater without a tremor or a break. Self-possession was fully restored to her, and in the reaction from that horrible moment of powerlessness she spoke as she had never done before. When she finished, the audience stood and burst into loud, genuine applause. Ahn bowed to them, blushing with shyness and delight. When she rose, she found herself staring into the eyes of the Cardassian ambassador.

"You did splendidly, my dear," he beamed. "I was deeply touched by your words. Why, I believe they're encoring you!"

"I don't know what to say," said Ahn confusedly. "I suppose I should think of something, or Mr. Quark would be disappointed. Even though he's not here, I want to show him I did well."

"Then don't disappoint Mr. Quark," said the ambassador, laughing.

Smiling and blushing, Ahn continued on, this time offering some of the lighthearted comments she had scrapped. Contrary to what she previously thought, Commander Kira and the rest of the audience were quite amused. The evening turned out to be a triumph for everyone involved.

When the reception ended, the Cardassian ambassador - a man by the name of Elid Kovit - took Ahn under his wing, introducing her to the guests; who treated her graciously for the most part. Commander Kira came and thanked her, stating she did the station a great service. Even the thin Bolian woman paid her a languid little compliment. The performers then had dinner with the guests in a large, beautifully decorated dining area.

When the evening was said and done, Becky and Ahn walked merrily out into the corridor. They each took a deep breath, and gave each other looks of absolute relief.

"Oh, it's good to be out again in the purity and silence of the night! My head is just swimming with memories; the murmur of the crowds, the colors, the lights. Oh! And the feelings of panic, then amazement, then relief!"

"Hasn't it been a perfectly splendid time?" sighed Becky, as they walked towards the Habitat Ring. "I just wish I could be an ambassador. I'd travel from world to world wearing jewels and low-necked dresses. I'd sleep in the finest rooms and have parties held in my honor. I'm sure it would be much more exciting than being a pianist. Ahn, your speech was the greatest, although I thought at first you were never going to begin. I think you surpassed everyone, including me."

"Oh, no, don't say things like that, Becky," said Ahn quickly, "because it sounds silly. I may not know much about music, but I can honestly say your performance was first-rate."

"Let me tell you what happened on the way out, Ahn," said Becky. "It was a compliment and I think you'd be pleased to hear it. There was a human sitting behind me...a handsome young man, with the deepest blue eyes. I learned that he is a distinguished artist, and that Mrs. Chel's cousin on Trill is married to a man that used to go to school with him. Well, I heard him ask, 'Now who is that young lady on stage with the splendid Titian hair? She has a face I should like to paint.' There now, Ahn. But what does Titian hair mean?"

"Being interpreted it means plain red, I guess," laughed Ahn. "Titian was a very famous Human artist who liked to paint red-haired women."

"DID you see how everyone looked?" sighed Becky. "They were simply dazzling. Don't you wish you could live a life as rich and exciting as they?"

"We ARE rich," said Ahn staunchly. "Why, we have the future ahead of us, and we have our minds and our health. Look around you. We couldn't enjoy the loveliness of life any more if we had a room full of latinum. You wouldn't change into any of those people if you could. Would you want to be that Bolian woman, turning your nose down at new experiences instead of showing interest? And what about the Risian who seemed so uptight? Her planet's supposed to be known for its relaxing atmosphere! Seems to me that despite the fine clothes and the jewels, ambassadors lead quite stressful lives. Even at parties, they're thinking about how to keep their world from chaos."  
  
"I DON'T know exactly," said Becky unconvinced. "For all the stress of being ambassador, I think jewels and clothes would provide a great comfort."

"Well, I don't want to be anyone but myself, even if I go 'uncomforted' for the rest of my life," declared Ahn. "I'm quite content with all that I have now. What Mr. Quark has given me surpasses any luxury the universe has to offer."

- - - - -

**EPISODE XXVIII  
A University Woman**

Ahn's oratory triumph was now but a sweet memory, and the rest of the summer was spent in preparation for her departure to Bajor. There was packing to be done, and many things to be talked over and arranged. Ahn had an entirely new wardrobe, thanks to Quark, who for once made no objections over style or price. He even made arrangements for the furniture in her bedroom to be transported down to her dorm.

"You know, Mr. Quark," Ahn said with all seriousness, "I don't believe you ought to be so kind to me...you're making it harder every day for me to go away."

Quark paused for a moment, his mind reflecting over all that had happened in the past decade. He vividly recalled the days spent teaching and punishing; the nights spent paying and praying; not to mention the lecturing and rescuing that came in between. It had been a great deal of hard work for no monetary gain whatsoever. Yet Quark felt it was the best investment he ever made.

Suddenly, he felt wetness pooling in the corners of his eyes.

"Oh don't cry," said Ahn, reaching forth to rest her hands on his shoulders. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I was NOT crying," said Quark with a sniffle and a few quick blinks. "I just couldn't help thinking of the changes that will have to be made once you're gone. For one, I'll have to find someone to take over your duties at the bar. Then, I was thinking that I could sell some of your old clothes and books. Oh, and maybe I could turn your room into a library or a beetle-snuff parlor. Now which do you think would be better?"

Ahn's face took on a pained expression. "I'm not even gone yet, and here you are going forth like I was never here! I know I've been trouble, but we've had some good times together. Aren't you going to remember me. Aren't you going to miss meeven a little bit?"

Quark turned to face Ahn. He sighed, and looked gravely into her eyes.

"You know I didn't mean any of that. It's just that sometimes - it's hard for me to say what I mean. I'm glad you're going to Bajor, but part of me wishes that you weren't. Sometimes, I wish that time could stand still."

"When I first decided to let you stay, I didn't think you'd be much more to me than a floor-sweeper. Instead, you've been better to me than some in my own family. I'd become so used to you being around that I don't know how I'm going to get along without you."

You're NEVER going to be without me," Ahn insisted, "No matter where I go...to Bajor...to the end of the universe...my true home will be here. No matter how much I change on the outside; in my heart I shall always be your Ahn, who will love you and Cousin Nog and Deep Space Nine every day of her life."

Ahn leaned forward, and pressed her ridged forehead to Quark's lobed one. At that moment, Quark would have given much for Ahn's power of putting her feelings into words; but nature and habit had willed it otherwise, and all he could do was receive in silence. Then with a suspicious moisture in his eyes, Quark excused himself and headed from his quarters.

In the dim light of the corridor he walked agitatedly towards the turbolift.

"Well now, I know as well as anyone that time can't stop," he muttered. "And it would be unfair to wish for such a thing. Ahn has a right to live her own life. She's pretty and smart, with a profitable future ahead of her. She's been a true asset to me, and she will become an asset to the rest of the universe."

The day finally came when Ahn set out for Bajor. Since Nog had been the one who brought her to the station, he felt it was his duty to bring her to the University. She and her cousin boarded the runabout Nile, after a tearful parting with Becky and an untearful practical one - on Quark's side at least - with Quark. The trip passed in absolute silence, with Ahn's gaze fixed on Deep Space Nine as it grew smaller - and smaller - until it was indistinguishable from the countless other bright dots in the sky.

Once Ahn had left the station, Becky dried her tears and went to a picnic in the Arboretum with some of her friends, where she contrived to enjoy herself tolerably well; while Quark plunged fiercely into unnecessary accounting and kept at it all day long with the bitterest kind of heartache - the ache that burns and gnaws and cannot wash itself away with Orion whiskey or Romulan ale. That night, as Quark lay in bed, he was for the first time, acutely and miserably conscious that the room opposite his was untenanted by any vivid young life. When he realized that there would no longer be any glow of nightlight or faint sounds of giggling, he closed his eyes, shedding silent tears that appalled him once he grew calm enough to reflect. How ridiculous it was to carry on so about a fe-male!

Ahn and the rest of the Deep Space Nine scholars reached campus just in time for orientation. That day passed pleasantly enough in a whirl of excitement, meeting all the new students, learning the instructors by sight, being assorted and organized into classes. Ahn intended to take the accelerated teaching courses recommended by Mrs. Chel; Tared Evron elected to do the same with economics. This would result in a undergraduate degree in two years instead of four, if they succeeded; but it also meant more work. Rislan Dana, Alice Pickett, Leslie Brooks, and B'Toreth not being troubled with the stirrings of ambition, were content to take the general freshman courses. Ahn was conscious of a pang of loneliness when she found herself in a cafeteria with fifty other students, not one of whom she knew, except for a certain wavy-haired Bajoran male across the room; and knowing him in the fashion she did, did not help her much, as she reflected pessimistically. Yet she was undeniably glad that they were in the same room; the old rivalry could still be carried on, and Ahn would hardly have known what to do if it had been lacking.

"I wouldn't feel comfortable without it," she thought. "Evron looks awfully determined. I suppose he's making up his mind, here and now, to make the honors list. What a splendid chin he has! I never noticed it before. I do wish Dana and Leslie had taken some accelerated courses with me. I suppose I won't feel so much like a caged animal when I get acquainted, though. I wonder who I can make friends with here. It's really an interesting speculation. Of course I promised Becky that no University student, no matter how much I liked them, could ever be as dear to me as she is; but I've lots of second-best affections to bestow. I like the look of that Bajoran with the grey eyes and the dark hair. He looks like he's got some interesting stories to tell; then there's that Human gazing out of the window. She looks as if she knew a thing or two about dreams. I'd like to know them both...know them well...well enough to walk arm-in-arm with, and call them funny nicknames. But just now I don't know them and they don't know me, and probably don't want to know me particularly. Oh, it's certainly lonesome!"

It was lonesomer still when Ahn found herself alone in her dorm that evening. She had a room all to herself for the length of her stay. Ahn would have liked to have roomed with one of her station classmates, but Quark felt she would do better in her studies without the "distractions" of "lesser minds."

All this might be quite true, but it did not materially help Ahn in the first agony of homesickness that seized upon her. She looked dismally about the room, which was furnished just as it was on the station. But instead of sensing comfort, a horrible choke came into her throat. She thought of Deep Space Nine, of the vast starry sky, of the brilliant flash of the wormhole, of the bar and the businesses and the school, of the sight of Quark and Nog in the morning, of the sound of Becky's voice floating across the Promenade.

Here there was nothing of this; Ahn knew that outside her window was the solid ground, and the faint sounds of alien feet. If she peeked out from behind the curtains, she would see the street lights gleaming on the heads of thousands of strangers. She knew that she was going to cry, but tried to fight against it.

"I WON'T cry. It's silly and weak...there's the third tear splashing down by my nose. There are more coming! I must think of something funny to stop them. But there's nothing funny except what is connected with Deep Space Nine, and that only makes things worse...four...five...I'm going home at the end of the week, but that seems a hundred years away. Oh, Cousin Nog is back on duty by now and Mr. Quark is at the bar, pouring drinks...six...seven...eight...oh, there's no use in counting them! They're coming in a flood. I can't cheer up...I don't WANT to cheer up. It's better to be miserable!"

The flood of tears would have come, no doubt, had not B'Toreth appeared at that moment. In the joy of seeing a familiar face Ahn forgot that there had never been much love lost between her and him. As a part of station life even a Klingon was welcome.

"I'm so glad you came up," Ahn said sincerely.

"You have been crying," remarked B'Toreth, without pity. "I suppose you are what they call 'homesick.' It amazes me how many species have so little self-control. I have no intention of falling prey to such weakness. The University is far more lively compared to that floating mass in space. I wonder how I survived up there for so long. You shouldn't cry, Ahn; it makes your eyes red, and then you seem ALL red. As for me, the day has been most amusing. My psychology instructor believes the answer to all conflicts is to sit down and talk. It took great restraint to keep from laughing in the middle of class. Have you anything to eat, Ahn? My stomach is growling. I figured that your people sent down some treats when you came. That is the main reason I decided to visit. If not, perhaps I will walk over to one of the farm houses outside campus and ask for some of their evening meal. They would never refuse a hungry student, let alone a Klingon."

Ahn was wondering if, after all, solitude and tears were not more satisfactory than B'Toreth's companionship when Dana and Leslie appeared in her open doorway.

"Well," said Dana with a sigh, "I feel as if I'd lived many moons since the morning. I ought to be at my desk studying... that horrid little physics professor is already giving us a quiz tomorrow. But I simply couldn't settle down to study tonight. Ahn, do I see the traces of tears? If you've been crying DO say so. It will restore my self-respect, for I was practically hysterical before Leslie came along. I don't mind being soft so much if somebody else is soft, too. Have you any treats? If so, may I have a tiny piece? It's only been a few days and I'm already longing for a taste of the station."

Leslie, catching sight of the Academic calendar pinned to the wall, wanted to know if Ahn meant to try for the honors list.

Ahn blushed and admitted she was thinking of it.

"Oh, that reminds me," said Leslie, "I heard the University will be handing out Opaka scholarships this year after all. I got the scoop from someone who works for the school newspaper. It will be front-page news tomorrow morning!"

An Opaka scholarship! Ahn felt her heart beat more quickly, and the horizons of her ambition shifted and broadened as if by magic. Of all the honors that a school could bestow, this was the most coveted.

The scholarships, named after the late beloved Kai, was the only award on the planet that paid tuition and expenses for the entire length of a student's education. Five schools were granted distribution rights each year, there had been doubts as to whether the University of Bajor would be considered. But the matter was quickly settled, and it was decided that the two students who scored highest academically at the end of the freshman term would receive the award.

That evening, Ahn went to bed with tingling cheeks. Before Leslie had delivered the news, Ahn's highest pinnacle of aspiration had been a teacher's license, within two years, and perhaps the honors list. But in a flash, Ahn saw herself winning, then going on to pursue her master's degree.

"I'll try for the Opaka with all my might," she resolved. "Wouldn't Mr. Quark be proud if I won? I could go as far as I desired, and he wouldn't have to pay a thing! Oh, it's delightful to have ambitions. I'm glad that I have so many. And there never seems to be any end to them...that's the best of it. Just as soon as you attain to one ambition you see another one glittering higher up still. It does make life very interesting."

- - - - -

**EPISODE XXIX  
Winter on Bajor**

Ahn's homesickness gradually wore off, due in large part to frequent subspace calls to the station. As long as the warm weather lasted, the students gathered and mingled at the center of campus every weekend night. Leslie Brooks, B'Toreth, and Alice Pickett usually met Ahn outside her dorm building and they all walked over together in a merry party. Ahn thought those evening romps across the grounds, with the sun setting deep orange in the distance, were the best and dearest hours in the whole week.

Tared Evron nearly always walked with Rislan Dana and carried her handbag for her. Dana truly thought of herself as grown now; she wore her hemlines as high and her necklines as low as possible. She had large, sparkling eyes, a brilliant complexion, and a plump showy figure. She laughed a great deal, was cheerful and good-tempered, and enjoyed the pleasant things of life frankly.

"But I shouldn't think she was the sort of girl Evron would like," whispered Alice to Ahn. Ahn did not think so either, but she would not have said so for the Opaka scholarship. She could not help thinking, too, that it would be very pleasant to have such a friend as Evron to joke and chatter with and exchange ideas about books and studies and ambitions. Evron had ambitions, she knew, and Rislan Dana did not seem the sort of person with whom such could be profitably discussed.

There was no silly sentiment in Ahn's ideas concerning Evron. Men were to her, when she thought about them at all, merely possible good comrades. If she and Evron had been friends she would not have cared how many other friends he had nor with whom he walked. She had a genius for friendship; girl friends she had in plenty; but she had a vague consciousness that male friendship might also be a good thing to round out one's conceptions of companionship and furnish broader standpoints of judgment and comparison. Not that Ahn could have put her feelings on the matter into just such clear definition. But she thought that if Evron had ever walked her home from class, past the trees changing color, and the cool breezes ruffling their hair, they might have had many and merry and interesting conversations about the new world that was opening around them and their hopes and ambitions therein. Evron was a clever young fellow, with his own thoughts about things and a determination to get the best out of life and put the best into it. B'Toreth once told Leslie that he didn't understand half the things Evron said. "He rambles on just like that Kor Ahn whenever a thought hits her. I fail to see the point in thinking and talking and worrying about things when you don't have to."

As the months passed, Ahn gradually drew a little circle of friends about her, thoughtful, imaginative, ambitious students like herself. With the "grey-eyed Bajoran," Ela Rainad, and the "Human staring out the window," Arden Ewing, she soon became intimate. Despite her ethereal looks, the former proved to be full to the brim with pranks and risque mischief. In contrast, the latter was a wise old soul, possessing a vision of the universe as vivid and hopeful as Ahn's own.

After the Harvest Festival, the University students gave up their weekend gatherings and settled down to hard work. By this time all the scholars had gravitated into their own places in the ranks and the various classes had assumed distinct and settled shadings of individuality. Certain facts had become generally accepted. It was admitted that the Opaka contestants had practically narrowed down to three: Tared Evron, Kor Ahn, and another Bajoran named Zebulan Denovad. Of course, only two could be chosen.

Among the student population, Rislan Dana was thought of as being the loveliest of all the freshman class; Ela Rainad was considered to have the best sense of humor, and B'Toreth carried off - literally - the honor of being the strongest.

All the while, Ahn worked hard and steadily towards her goal. Her rivalry with Evron was as intense as it had been on the station, although it was not generally known amongst the University populace. It had also taken on a different nature, with the passage of time. Ahn no longer wished to win for the sake of defeating Evron; rather, for the proud consciousness of a well-won victory over a worthy foe. It would be worthwhile to win, but she no longer thought life would be unbearable if she did not.

Before anybody realized it, the winter had come and gone. Outside campus, hills of melting snow turned the ground damp and muddy. The sun shone warmer and stayed longer, while the trees above sprouted tiny green buds. Despite the emerging beauty, the University students thought and talked only of examinations.

"It doesn't seem possible that the term is nearly over," said Ahn. "Why, last fall it seemed so long to look forward to...a whole winter of studies and classes. And here we are, with the exams approaching in a matter of weeks. Friends, sometimes I feel as if those exams meant everything, but when I look at the buds swelling on the trees and the warm mid-afternoon breezes they don't seem half so important."

Dana, Alice and Leslie, who dropped by for a visit, did not hold the same view. To them, the coming exams were very important - far more important than breezes or budding trees. It may have made little difference to Ahn, who was sure of passing at least, but to the girls, time might just as well stop if they were to fail.

"I've lost seven pounds in the last two weeks," sighed Dana. "Look how skinny I've become!"

"It's because you worry so," Ahn said, waving her index finger with mock scorn.

"It's no use in saying don't worry," insisted Dana. "I WILL worry. Worrying helps some...it seems as if you're doing something when you're worrying. It would be dreadful if I failed to pass after all this hard work."

"Well, I don't care," said Leslie. "If I don't pass this year I'm coming back next. My family can afford to send me. Ahn, word around campus is that Tared Evron is sure to win one of the Opakas. However, the other one is still pretty much up for grabs.

"Now I don't know whether to feel happy or sad," laughed Ahn. "I suppose that as long as I know the trees will grow and the flowers will bloom, it doesn't make a great deal of difference whether I win the Opaka or not. I've done my best and I'm beginning to understand what is meant by the term 'try, try again.' Next to trying and winning, the best thing is trying and failing. Friends, let's not think that one failure is the end of all things."

"Well then, what are all of you going to wear when we go out this weekend?" asked Alice practically.

There was a moment of silence before Dana, Leslie, and Alice shouted their answers at once. With a fit of giggles, the conversation went full throttle into the year's latest fashions. Ahn smiled, but showed no interest in joining in. Instead, she turned and placed her elbows on the window sill, laying her cheek against her clasped hands. While her friends spoke of dresses and jewelery, her mind filled with visions of a different kind of material. It was much stronger than lace, and far more dazzling than any colored stone. It was the fabric of the future, and it was constructed from the threads of youth and optimism. Of all the beautiful things that one could wear, this is what Ahn desired the most.


	8. Ahn of Deep Space Nine Episodes 30 to 32

**Ahn of Deep Space Nine**  
  
A fan-novel, based on _Anne of Green Gables_ by Lucy Maud Montgomery and _STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE.  
  
DISCLAIMER:_ This was written solely for the sake of fun. No money is being made here, and no copyright infringement is intended. Takes place after "What You Leave Behind," the final episode of _Deep Space Nine._

- - - - -

**EPISODE XXX  
The Homecoming**

On the morning when the winners of the Opaka scholarship were to be announced, Ahn and Leslie walked towards central campus together. Leslie was smiling and happy; the school year was over and she was sure she had done well enough to pass. The thought of not getting top marks did not trouble her at all; she had no competition to contend with and no driving ambitions to speak of. A wise person once said that a price is paid for all in this universe, taken and received. And while ambitions are well worth having, they are not cheaply won, their dues are extracted through hard work, self-denial, anxiety and discouragement. Ahn was pale and quiet; in ten more minutes she would know which two students would be receiving scholarships. Beyond those ten minutes there did not seem, just then, to be anything worth being called Time.

"Of course you'll win one of them," said Leslie, who couldn't understand how the faculty could be so unfair as to order it otherwise.

"I don't think I'll make it," said Ahn. "Evron's a sure pick with his paper on Nash's Theorem and I heard that the results of Denovad's warp field project made his professor's heart flutter! My research on intergalactic education techniques looks like a grade school book report in comparison. There's no way I can stand in the middle of campus, with everyone staring at me, while they announce the results. I haven't the courage. I'm going straight back to my room. You can come and tell me what happened when it's all over, Leslie. I beg you in the name of friendship to do this one favor for me. If I wasn't chosen, just say so, without trying to break it to me gently; and whatever you do DON'T sympathize with me. Promise me this, Leslie."

Leslie promised solemnly; but, as it happened, there was no need to do so. From a distance, they heard, then saw, a group of students approaching. They clapped, and yelled at the tops of their voices, "Hooray for the winners! Hooray for Evron and Denovad!"

Ahn felt a sickening pang of defeat and disappointment. So she had failed and Evron had won! Well, Mr. Quark would be sorry - he had been so sure she would win.

"Oh Ahn," Leslie said, lending a comforting arm. "I'm sorry you didn't win. But friend, let's not think that one failure is the end of all things. "You still did a lot better than I could ever hope for."

Leslie stepped back, and with a smile, started to clap.

"Three cheers for Kor Ahn, a winner, no matter what!"

Ahn went home for summer vacation the next day. She had not been on Deep Space Nine for a year and she felt that she could not wait another day. Nog was the first one at the airlock to greet her. With a sense of relief, Ahn greeted her cousin with a long embrace.

"Oh, it's so good to be back again. It's so good to see the stars and the ships and the uniforms. It's so good to hear the voices of all the different people. It's so good to smell the hasperat and the blood pie and the pizza cooking. And it's GOOD to see you again, too!"

"I was wondering if you'd come back," said Nog reproachfully. "A lot of people don't, once they've experienced life planetside."

Ahn grinned and gave Nog a playful tap on the shoulder.

"The University of Bajor is the finest school there is," she declared. "but Deep Space Nine is home to me, and I love you and Mr. Quark more than ever. I intend to spend as much time as I can with you both during my vacation. I also intend to spend as much time as I can doing, and thinking of absolutely nothing."

"You've certainly earned the right, Ahn. Do you still intend on becoming a teacher?"

"Yes, I'm certain of it now more than ever. Since I didn't win the Opaka, I'm going to finish my second year, graduate, get my teaching certificate, and apply for a position on Bajor. Perhaps I can work at one of the orphanages. It seems only right, after all they've done for me. Things are really falling in place for me now. I'll be completely refreshed after three glorious, golden months of vacation. Leslie has chosen Bajoran Literature as her major and B'Toreth is considering Psychology. I didn't see that one coming, especially since he had such a low opinion of his instructor that first week. But isn't it splendid how all our lives are moving forward?"

"Tared Gison says that her brother will be working in the Economics department next year. Evron will be an instructor's assistant. After graduation, he's sure to land any position he applies for. Opaka winners are highly sought after, as you well know. She says he's even shown an interest in teaching at the University."

At that moment, Ahn felt a strange sense of dismay. For the first time, she realized that Evron's life was heading in a different direction from hers. What would she do next year without their inspiring rivalry? Would her drive to succeed, sharp as it was, grow dull without her beloved enemy?

The next morning at breakfast it suddenly struck Ahn that Quark was not looking well. He appeared to be much thinner than he had been a year before. After Quark left for the bar, Ahn helped Nog with the dishes. As they were finishing up, Ahn had to raise the subject.

"Cousin," she said hesitatingly, "is there something wrong with Mr. Quark?"

Nog put the last plate away, then slowly turned to face Ahn.

"I'm afraid so," said Nog in a troubled tone. "His headaches are getting worse, and Dr. Bashir can't find the cause. He insists that Uncle take some time off work, but he refuses. Everyone's very worried about him. I've been helping out at the bar when I'm not on duty, but I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. I've been living on four hours of sleep a night for months."  
  
Ahn was stunned. "Why didn't anyone tell me this was happening?"

"You were doing so well, and he didn't want to ruin it," Nog replied. "Uncle felt it was more important that you focus on your studies. He also said that he didn't want to see his money go to waste. The University of Bajor doesn't believe in refunds."

Ahn nodded her head in understanding.

"Now that I'm back," she said. "I'll make sure that he gets some rest. And you need to rest as well. You can't serve Starfleet on four hours of sleep a night. Take care of yourself, Cousin, and I'll take care of Mr. Quark."

Nog smiled, giving Ahn a look of relief. "I know that you will. If anyone can reason with him, it's you. He trusts you."

After visiting Nurse Peters, who gave Ahn copies of Becky's piano music from Jilliard, she walked across the Promenade towards Quark's bar. Inside, she spotted Quark behind the bar, slowly pouring drinks; Ahn, tall and erect, stepped behind to join him.

"You've been working too hard Mr. Quark, " she said, reproachfully. "Why don't you take a break?"

"I don't know how," said Quark, with a weak shrug. "I've spent my whole life working to build something and I'd rather die in the middle of it than to step aside and give it up."

"If I had been the boy you sent for," said Ahn wistfully, "I would have been able to help you so much now and spare you in a hundred ways. I could find it in my heart to wish I had been, just for that."

"Well now, I'd rather have you than a dozen boys, Ahn," said Quark patting her hand. "Just think of how much that would've cost me! No, the girl turned out to be the right investment. The fe-malethe girl.the WOMAN is the one that I'm proud of."

He smiled a sly smile at her as he walked past. Ahn took the memory of it with her when she went to her room that night and sat for a long while with the stars at her window, thinking of the past and dreaming of the future. Ahn always remembered the dark, peaceful beauty and silent calm of that night. It was the last night before sorrow touched her life; and no life is ever quite the same again when once that cold, sanctifying touch has been laid upon it.

- - - - -

**EPISODE XXXI  
The Place To Where We All Return**

"Unclewhat's wrong? Uncle Quark, are you sick?"

It was Nog who spoke, alarm in every jerky word. Ahn was coming down the Promenade, pinning her long hair into a bun - which she often did before work - in time to hear Nog's voice from inside the bar. Ahn rushed in, and saw her cousin cradling Quark in his lap.

"He's not breathing," gasped Nog. He hit his comm badge. "Dr. Bashir to the bar, medical emergency!"

The Dabo girls helped to clear space for the medical team, while the waiters rushed to clear out the morning patrons. When Dr. Bashir arrived, he found Nog and Ahn desperately trying to resuscitate Quark.

Dr. Bashir pushed them gently aside, pulled out his scanner, looking for a pulse. He shook his head, and asked one of his assistants for a hypospray. He checked for signs of revival. There were none.

"We need to get him to the Infirmary, NOW."

An hour passed, and the whole station heard what was going on. While an anxious crowd converged outside the Infirmary, Ahn, Nog, Commander Kira, and Counselor Dax waited silently in the lobby. When Dr. Bashir finally emerged from the treatment area, his face was drawn and beaded with sweat. He came over to Ahn, taking her hands in his. There was no need to explain what had happened. Ahn knew that her Quark was gone.

"I'm so very sorry," he said gravely. "We worked on him for over forty minutes. We did everything to try and revive him. It just wasn't medically possible."

Nog slumped into a chair, a look of pure shock on his face. Commander Kira went to console him, though her own face was rapidly streaking with tears. Ahn stood in frozen silence for a long while. Counselor Dax stepped forward, placing her hands on Ahn's shoulders.

"If you want to cry, or say anythingit's ok." Ezri said. "Don't feel that you have to hold anything back."

"I'd like to see him." Ahn said firmly.

"Are you sure you want to do this now?" Ezri said.

Ahn nodded. "Yes, I'm ready."

Dr. Bashir led Ahn and Nog into the treatment room. There lay Quark on the center table, covered to his chest by a pale grey sheet. Wide lobes framed a placid tan face on which there was a little smile. His eyes were closed and his hands folded as if sleeping, dreaming of all the latinum the Divine Treasury.

Are you sure about this, I meanhe doesn't lookhe doesn't look" Ahn could not say the dreadful word; she turned sick and pallid.

"I'm afraid so. Look at his face. When you've seen that look as often as I have you know what it means."

Ahn reached out, gently tracing Quark's face with her hand. Then she leaned forward, and planted a kiss on his forehead.

Dr. Bashir ruled that Quark's death had been instantaneous and probably painless, caused by respiratory failure. The underlying cause was discovered months later, when post-mortem research revealed a tumor on the area of his brain that controlled breathing. Normally, tumors are detected by medical scanners, but there are rare cases in Ferengi where they can 'cloak' themselves against such detection.

News of Quark's death spread quickly throughout the station, and all day friends, neighbors, strangers, and patrons came to offer Ahn and Nog their condolences. Ahn's schoolmates - former and current - brought sympathy cards. Tared Evron's family sent a large, hand-made wreath of flowers, and from Earth, a sorrowful Becky sent words of support. That night, Nog stayed with Ahn, sleeping on the couch in his Starfleet uniform.

A few hours before dawn, a sleepless Ahn wandered into Quark's room. She had shown virtually no emotion the previous day, and was hoping that the tears would come in solitude. It seemed a terrible thing that she could not shed a tear for him now, the one she had loved so much, the one who had been so kind to her. Less than twenty-six hours before, Ahn thought, she was standing next to him, engaged in conversation. Now, she would never be able to do that again. No tears came at first, even when she opened the closet, catching sight of his brightly colored suits - no tears, only the same horrible dull ache of misery that kept on aching until she fell asleep, worn out with the day's drama and pain.

She awakened a few minutes later, with the stillness and the darkness about her. In that moment, the full force of what had happened came over her like a wave of sorrow. She could see Quark's face smiling slyly at her as he poured drinks that last evening - she could hear his voice saying, "The WOMAN that I'm proud of." Then the tears came and Ahn wept her heart out. Nog heard her cries and crept in to comfort her.

"It's going to be alright, Ahn. It's a part of life, and we have to accept it. He was a good Uncle to me, and I'm going to miss him. But life must go on."

"Oh, just let me cry," sobbed Ahn. "The tears don't hurt me like that ache did. Stay here with me for a while. I don't want to be alone. It's our sorrow - yours and mine. Oh, Cousin, what will we do without him?"

"We've got each other," Nog said. "No matter what. I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here - if you'd never come."

Two days later, a public memorial service was held on the Promenade. It was an impressive yet touching service. Commander Kira officiated, the waiters from the bar served as pall-bearers, and the Security team served as the honor guard. After the ceremony, as Ferengi custom dictated, Quark's remains were desiccated and divided into several portions. They were to be sold off, but to everyone's surprise, Grand Nagus Rom purchased the entire lot. He kept one for himself, then divided the rest amongst family and friends. Moogie received a share, as did Nog, Commander Kira, Morn, and Ahn. Ahn took some of her portion, and had it placed in a locket, which she wore on her neck every day.

As the summer passed, life slowly settled back to its usual placidity. Even at the bar, for the time being run part-time by Nog, affairs slipped into their old groove. Work was done and duties fulfilled with regularity as before, although always with the aching sense of "loss in all familiar things." Ahn, new to such grief, thought it almost sad that it could be so - that they COULD go on without Quark. She felt something like shame and remorse when she discovered that the sight of the stars and the wormhole opening gave her the old inrush of gladness when she saw them - that cleaning tables and talking to the Dabo girls was pleasant to her and that Morn's jokes moved her to laughter and smiles - that, in brief, death did not destroy the beauty of the universe. Despite all that had happened that summer, life still called to her with many insistent voices.

"It seems like disloyalty to Mr. Quark, somehow, to find pleasure in these things now that he has gone," she said wistfully to Counselor Dax one evening when she came by the bar for a drink. "I miss him so muchall the timeand yet, Ezri, life remains so beautiful and interesting to me. Today Morn said something funny and I found myself laughing. I thought when it happened I could never laugh again. And it somehow seems as if I shouldn't."

"When Quark was here, he liked to hear you laugh and he was glad to know that you found pleasure in life on the station," said Ezri gently. "He may be gone from this place now; but I'm sure he likes to know it just the same. We must not shut our hearts against the healing powers that nature offers us. But I can understand your feelings, Ahn. I think we all experience the same thing. We resent the thought that anything can please us when someone we love is no longer here to share the pleasure with us, and we almost feel as if we are unfaithful to our sorrow when we find our interest in life returning to us."

"I want to move on with my life," Ahn said. "But I'm worried about what will happen here. Cousin Nog can't run the bar and be in Starfleet at the same time. He's going to have to choose one, and neither choice is going to be easy. The bar is a family tradition, one that he will never let fall into a stranger's hands. But Starfleet is his life's dream, he's come too far to just walk away."

Erzri had no easy solutions to this dilemma, but Ahn didn't expect any. She knew that there were some things just had to be worked out on their own.

Later that evening, Ahn met Nog by the window on the third level of the Promenade. She had just finished closing up at the bar, and Nog was taking a break in between rounds of updating the station's computers.

"So, Cousin, have you decided what you're going to do?" Ahn asked.

Nog sighed. "I'm afraid not. It's going to be a lot harder to keep up when you go back to Bajor. I may have to enter into some kind of business partnershipan arrangement where I would still be in charge, but with someone else managing the day-to-day activities. I figure one of the waiters would be an ideal choice, since they already know how things work."

"You know," Ahn said. "I was thinking that maybe I should take a year off from school, until everything is settled. I mean, the University isn't going anywhere."

"Absolutely not!" Nog replied adamantly. "I'll be fine. Uncle Quark would not have wanted you to fall behind. Besides, you'd be miserable, wondering what's going on down there. In spite of what's happened, they're all expecting you to come back. You wouldn't want to disappoint anyone even Tared Evron."

Ahn responded with a sarcastic roll of her eyes.

"Think what you want, but I always thought he was a nice person." said Nog absentmindedly. "I saw him yesterday, walking with his family to the temple. He stopped me, and asked how you were doing."

Ahn looked at him with swift interest.

"Oh, and what happened?"

"I told him you were doing fine." Nog replied. "You know, I never understood what you had against him all these years."

"We had a fight. It all seems so foolish now, but back then, it was a matter of honor. He apologized, but I wouldn't forgive him. I meant to, but I was so angry I just wanted to punish him. He never asked again, thoughthe Tareds are all such proud people. I always felt sorry that things had gotten so out of hand. I've always kind of wished I'd forgiven him when I had the chance."

"So you HAVE had a bit of romance in your life," said Nog teasingly.

"I suppose you might call it that," Ahn said with a shrug. "You wouldn't think so to look at me, would you? But you never can tell about people from their outside appearances."

- - - - -

**EPISODE XXXII  
The Dreamer and the Dream**

The summer had come to an end, and the University students were preparing to return to Bajor. Ahn had gone shopping for supplies with Alice and Leslie, and had come home to find Nog at the dining room table. A stack of data padds lay before him, and he leaned his head on his hands. The dejected look in his eyes sent a chill to Ahn's heart. She had never seen her cousin sit limply inert like that.

"Are you alright, Cousin?"

Nog wearily looked up. "Oh...yes. I just need to get some rest."

"Have you found anyone yet? asked Ahn anxiously.

"I'm afraid not. I spoke to the waiters, and none of them seemed to want that kind of responsibility. I think they're afraid the stress will kill themthey think that's what killed Uncle Quark. I want to keep bar, but I have my own life to live too. Starfleet is very important to me. If I don't find someone, I'm afraid I'll have no choiceI'll have to close it down.

For a minute Ahn, after her first quick exclamation of dismay, was silent. It seemed to her that she could NOT speak. Then she said:  
  
"Close the bar? Close the bar?" Ahn wondered if she had heard aright. "Oh, please don't do it!"

"Ahn, I don't know what else to do. I've gone over it in my head a million times. I just can't seem to find anyone trustworthy. Believe me, I never thought I'd live to see the day. But things will only get worse and worse, and I'd rather go out on top than to slowly watch everything collapse. Now, there's no need for you to worry, Ahn. Uncle Quark set aside funds for your schooling a long time ago. It's in a separate account. I'll make sure it's transferred to your name before you leave. I'll also make sure you get an equal share of the proceeds from anything sold."

Ahn broke down and wept bitterly. "You mustn't close the bar," she said resolutely.

"Oh, Ahn, I wish I didn't have to. But you can see for yourself. I can't run things alone."

"Then you won't have to do it alone, Cousin. I'll stay here. Let me manage the bar."

"YOU manage the bar!" Nog said in disbelief. "You know Uncle Quark would have never allowed it!"

"Only because of some STUPID Ferengi tradition!" Ahn blurted out. "That's right, I meant what I said! If I were a male, there wouldn't be any question. Don't get me wrong, I have nothing but the utmost respect for Ferengi culture, but things need to change. It's time to let go of these outdated beliefs about females. We can do anything a male can do. Some of those things we can do even BETTER."  
  
"That may be true," Nog said. "But you're barely eighteen. Hu-mans can't even drink liquor until they are twenty-one. I'd love for you to be able to help, but I can't let you sacrifice yourself for this."

"I know I'm young, but I have years of experience on my side." Ahn insisted. "Who knows the people on the stationwho gets along with the waiters and the Dabo girlswho knows more about the inner workings of that place? Cousin, nothing could be worse than giving up the barnothing could hurt me more. Quark's Bar must stay open. My mind is made up, I'm NOT going back to Bajor; Kor Ahn is here to stay."

"But your future"

"My future is as bright as ever. Besides, no one's path is etched in stone. I'm going to be an excellent businesswoman, and you're going to make it to admiral! I will change my major to business, and take correspondence courses. Oh, things will work out for us both, Cousin Nog. I have been given so much in this life, it's only fitting that I give something in return. Do you know that when I first left for vacation, I thought my future was like one straight road. I thought it went in only one direction, and that I could see the end in the distance. Now, I realize that the future is infinite space. I don't know what lies ahead, and I'm not sure which direction to take. But no matter what path I travel, I'm going to believe that the best awaits."

"I still don't believe you're making a wise decision," said Nog, "but if I don't let you try, I know you'd never forgive me. We'll do it your way for a year, and if it doesn't work, you have to promise me you'll go back and get your teaching certificate."

"I solemnly promise," Ahn said, placing her hand over her heart. "And ifWHEN things work out, I get to stay on as manager."

"Better yet," Nog said. "You make this work, and I'll sign the while thing over to you."

When it became known that Kor Ahn had given up the University of Bajor for Quark's Bar, there was a good deal of discussion over it. Dr. Bashir thought she was being foolish. Counselor Dax felt she was making a courageous move. Commander Kira thought it was none of her business. But that didn't stop her from visitng the bar one morning before opening. She found Ahn inside, going over the monthly business reports.

"Mind if I come in...why thank you, AhnI've been on my feet all night in Ops. Well, I hear you've given up teaching. To each their own, I suppose."

"But I'm going to study accounting and finance just the same, Commander," said Ahn with a smile. "I plan to take correspondence courses, and study everything as if I were at the University."

Kira raised her eyes. "Isn't that a bit much under the circumstances?"

"Not a bit. I thrive on challenge. I'm not going to overdo things. I'll start slowly, with one or two courses, then I'll work my way up."

"I wish you all the best," Kira sincerely replied. "and I WILL remain a loyal customer."

With a pat of the hand, Commander Kira rose and headed for the door.

After the lunch rush, Ahn took a break and walked over to the Arboretum. She lingered there for an hour, liking the peace and calm of the place, with the exotic trees whose rustle was like low, friendly speech, and its whispering flowers growing at will around the small, mirror-like pond. When it was time to leave, she picked a purple hyacinth and stuck it in her hair. Completely refreshed, Ahn made her way back to work. Halfway there, a tall young man came whistling from the opposite direction. It was Evron, and the whistle died on his lips as he recognized her. He prepared himself for the cold shoulder once again, but to his surprise, Ahn stopped and held out her hand.

"Evron," she said, smiling awkwardly, "I want to...THANK you and your family for the wreath you sent. It was beautifulI really appreciated it."

Evron took the offered hand eagerly.

"It was sorry to hear about Mr. Quark's passing. I know you loved him dearly and I just wanted to let you know I sympathized. So, does this mean that our little war is over? I know I started it, but I'm ready to lay down my arms."

Ahn laughed and tried unsuccessfully to withdraw her hand.

"Actually, the war ended some time ago...I just didn't want to admit it. I forgave you that day when you rescued me in the holosuite. What a stubborn fool I've been!"

"Don't dwell on it anymore," said Evron, finally letting go. "Let's put it behind us. I'd like it very much if you would now consider me a friend. If you need help, advice, or just someone to talk to, feel free to come to me."

"That's nice to know," Ahn said. "But won't it be hard to put into practice? I'll be here on the station, and you'll be on Bajor."

"You didn't hear? I'm not going back to Bajor until next spring. I accepted an internship with the Bajoran Consulate. I know, it doesn't have much to do with economics, but it will make for an impressive addition to my resume'. I'll be working on the first level. Come walk with me, I'll tell you all about it."

When Ahn returned, over an hour later, Nog noticed a curious look on her face.

"You're late," he said. "and I need to show you how to check the inventory before I go on duty. Did something happen out there? You have a weird look on your face."

"Me?" answered Ahn, vexed to find herself blushing. "Well, I did run into Tared Evron. We ended up having a long talk."

"I didn't think you two were on good terms." Nog remarked.

"We haven't been. In fact, we'd been nothing but the best of enemies. Today, however, we decided it would be much more sensible to be friends. It seems like a logical course of action, since I'll be seeing a lot more of him."

"Do I detect romance in the air?" Nog inquired with a dry smile.

Ahn smirked, and walked past him, towards the stockroom.

Hours later, Ahn stood alone in the center of the bar. The holosuites and gaming wheels were powered down, and the staff had just filed out the door. It had been a hectic day, and yes, some mistakes were made. But It was all part of the learning process. Ahn took everything in stride, and her heart was filled with a feeling of glad content.

Kor Ahn had travelled many roads in her journey from girl to woman. Some of them were smooth and tranquil; others were riddled with thorns. Ahn was at the fork in the road now, and there were many different paths that lay ahead. It was a daunting thought, but Ahn believed that no matter which road she travelled, the stars would help light the way. The fruits of hard work, worthy aspiration, and congenial friendship were going to be hers; nothing would stop her from achieving the life she envisioned.

"I am the dreamer," whispered Ahn softly. "And the dream."

**THE END  
**


	9. Ahn of Deep Space Nine Afterword

**Ahn of Deep Space Nine**

A fan-novel, based on Anne of Green Gables by Lucy Maud Montgomery and STAR TREK: DEEP SPACE NINE.

DISCLAIMER: This was written solely for the sake of fun. No money is being made here, and no copyright infringement is intended. Takes place after "What You Leave Behind," the final episode of Deep Space Nine.

- - - - - 

**Afterword**

Well, it took a while, but it's finally finished. Writing this was a lot harder than expected, but I had a good time doing it. The main reason it took me so long to finish is because I don't have a lot of free time. I work crazy hours, and I got a household to take care of. I'm lucky if I can check my e-mail every other day. 

Where did I get the idea for this story? From the most unlikely of sources. One day, I was in a Borders bookstore, and I saw a book called The Klingon Hamlet. Yes, the ENTIRE text of one of Shakespeare's greatest plays was adapted into the Klingon language. Imagine the effort it took to translate something from Old English (which no one speaks anymore), to Klingon (which is a fictional language based on a tv show). That got me to thinking: "Hey, I can do something like that!"

I wasn't about to go translate Romeo and Juliet into Bajoran, mind you. I wanted to take a classic story, and adapt it to the Star Trek universe. I planned to use one of the stories I enjoyed as a child. First, I wanted to do The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, but there was no substitution for the Mississippi River. Then I thought of Anne of Green Gables. Then I imagined it all happening in the Deep Space Nine setting. Believe it or not, it clicked! Yes, late 19th / early 20th century Prince Edward Island and a 24th century space station go hand-in-hand. 

I had to do a great deal of research to get the details right. It had been years since I looked at an episode of Deep Space Nine. I started by going back and re-watching the few tapes I had recorded when the show was still on the air. The Official Star Trek Website (www.startrek.com) was another big help. It had been even longer since I read Anne of Green Gables. I couldn't find my copy, so I ended up repeatedly borrowing one from the Birmingham Public Library. Often, I just made stuff up off the top of my head. I also made good use of my old grammar books. Turns out that turn-of-the-century Canadians and 24th century aliens speak very different types of English. Getting the grammar down straight nearly killed me.

Feel free to enjoy this work, and archive it if you wish. But don't even THINK of trying to rip me off! Taking undeserved credit for this work, or trying to sell it for profit is a big no no. 

Much love to the people who helped me, complimented me, and offered me their constructive criticism. 

_-Amantari  
_


End file.
